Forbidden
by PocketSunlight
Summary: "Having sex with you is like being eaten by a dragon. It's dangerous, it's enticing and I can't help coming back to be consumed." They knew it was wrong, they knew they would have to face the repercussions, but when you get an itch, it's impossible not to scratch it. Rated M for eventual juicy lemons. Post-war/AU/Some elements are canon compliant, but a lot is my own wandering mind
1. Chapter 1

Summary: "Having sex with you is like being eaten by a dragon. It's dangerous, it's enticing and I can't help coming back to be consumed." They knew it was wrong, they knew they would have to face the repercussions, but when you get an itch, it's impossible not to scratch it. What happens when a humdrum life at the Ministry crosses paths with the aristocratic expectations of a Pureblood Professor? Something has to bubble over...

Secrets, seduction and of course smut awaits. Lemon's will be juiced for those willing to stick with it :D

Rated M for eventual juicy lemons. Post-war/AU/Some elements are canon compliant, but a lot is my own wandering mind.

This is a bit of a Ron basher, sorry! (I love Ron, but in order to have our Dramione fix, there needs to be a few causalities).  
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

Love to all, especially Randy Jane haha.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

On the one hand, Draco Malfoy was glad he didn't have to do any teaching that afternoon. Friday afternoons were usually spent trying to teach the art of brewing different potions whilst avoiding caustic fumes and shrapnel from exploded cauldrons courtesy of the first years. He didn't remember being so incapable in his first year of potions, however, not many of his classmates would probably dare to be so incompetent with Professor Snape as their teacher, well all except perhaps Neville Longbottom.

On the other hand, he now had to spend his afternoon in the Great Hall surrounded by seventh years. Headmistress McGonagall had organised some guest speakers to speak to the students about their various options after they had completed their NEWT's. Draco had so graciously been volunteered with a handful of other professors to babysit the little gathering to ensure all went smoothly. He was currently sitting at the back of the Great Hall behind the Slytherin's, his mind wandering to all the lesson plans he had to write up and the pile of parchments on his desk that he still had to mark.  
The current speaker had been waffling on about the particulars of being an Arithmancer for what seemed like hours. He was an older wizard; his white beard knotted in a scruffy braid that he had tucked into the sash tied around his waist. His eyebrows were so bushy that they blended seamlessly into the mop of white hair atop his head. His shocking purple robes were the only colour about him; he was so pale that he could almost be related to Draco himself. Never, however, would Draco ever pair purple robes with green trousers.  
No, they were definitely not related.

* * *

"It's so good to see you Neville, how have you been?" Neville grinned as an array of chestnut curls suddenly engulfed his face, and a pair of arms threw themselves around his neck.

"Hermione, what a surprise! I'm really good thanks, what brings you here?" He set his friend back down on the floor and led her to a pair of winged armchairs by the staffroom fire. It had been a few months since Neville had seen Hermione Granger-Weasley. She was still in her work attire he noticed, as she unhooked her robes and attempted to tame her stubborn locks into a bun.

"Headmistress McGonagall invited me here to speak to the seventh years about careers at the ministry. It's so surreal to be back!" She smiled and looked around the room they were in. It wasn't a large room, but it was definitely cosy. Lots of mismatched chairs and different sized tables scattered the space. They were currently the only occupants, bar an elderly ghost asleep in the corner of the room.

"Oh yes, I forgot that was today. I volunteered to supervise but Headmistress McGonagall wanted me to focus on the fifth years and all the OWL's preparation. Ready to persuade all the students that a life in the ministry is for them?" Neville smiled as he got up to fetch himself and Hermione a cup of tea from the table under the arched window.

"Even if I only persuade one student to consider a job looking after the welfare of magical creatures then I'd consider this talk a success." Hermione replied as she took a sip of her hot infusion. Neville raised his own mug in a 'here here' motion, before inquiring, "life in the ministry still treating you well?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it's good. We've had a few difficult cases recently surrounding some house elves and a group of elderly pureblood wizards that got a bit intense, and we've had a new guy starting, Atticus Sweeney, so it's been quite full on. I still enjoy it though, I wouldn't be me if I didn't enjoy a large workload." Hermione laughed. "I still get to see Harry a few times a week though, whenever he's not too busy with Auror business he and I meet up for lunch. I think he misses working with Ron though." Neville recalled that Hermione's husband Ron Weasley had decided that after a few years of working as an Auror with Harry Potter, that he was needed to support his brother George in the expansion of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.  
"Anyway! Enough about me, how is life here Professor Longbottom?" Hermione nudged the knee of her old friend and awaited his news like a schoolgirl waiting to hear the next instalment of juicy gossip.

"Oh you know Hermione, nothing really changes at Hogwarts. We're growing a new species of the Venomous Tentacula plant. Its juices can be used to aid a new formulation of dreamless sleep. More students are succeeding in their Herbology OWL's too which means more students are going on to do their Herbology NEWT's. McGonagall is delighted, it's the second biggest intake of interest in a subject she's seen in years." Neville flushed with pride and Hermione grinned in response.

"That's great Neville! All down to your hard work and enthusiasm no less. What may I ask, is the first? Has there been a sudden uptake in interest in a History of Magic? Has Professor Binns finally managed to keep a student awake in one of his classes?" Hermione expected a smile from her companion, but instead was greeted with an un-amused huff, as Neville leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, nursing his mug in his hands.

"Malfoy," Neville replied simply. "He's got the student body wrapped around his little finger. The girls swoon over him like he's a model from Witch Weekly. Of course he's still the arrogant, pompous arse we all remember from school, yet I can't find fault with his teaching unfortunately. His results are brilliant and all the students love him..." Neville tailed off.

Of course, Hermione chided herself. Draco Malfoy worked here as well, how could she have forgotten? He was occasionally pictured in the Daily Prophet with his fiancé at various functions and balls, but Hermione had completely forgotten he was now the potions professor at Hogwarts, not just an aristocratic socialite. From what she remembered, he had grown into his looks since leaving school. He was tall and slim, his once angular face was now more handsome and chiselled, and his famous blonde hair was shorter and always appeared elegantly dishevelled. For someone who hid their intelligence behind their indifference to learning during their time at school, Hermione was surprised he had returned to Hogwarts at all, surely he didn't need the money?  
Hermione's thoughts on Malfoy were interrupted however as the door's to the staffroom swung open and Headmistress McGonagall's voice was projected across the room "Hermione, my dear!"

* * *

Draco kicked the chair of the student in front of him in an attempt to cease the young wizard's discussion with his peer. The student turned around and Draco raised an eyebrow at him, fixing him with a stare he'd mastered after his three years of teaching at Hogwarts. The boy blushed and returned his attention to the speaker.

Crossing his ankles in front of him, Draco leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, letting his eyes drift lazily across the guests sat at the front of the Great Hall, waiting their turn to impart their knowledge of adult life and employment to the teenagers. Hell, Draco didn't even know what he wanted to do with his life. He was 24 and the sole heir of the Malfoy estate and all that came with it, including its unfavourable name. His Father had donated vast amounts of galleons to different charitable foundations in an attempt to try and rebuild the Malfoy name following their fall from grace after the war. They had avoided a spell in Azkaban due to their last minute change in allegiance. They were no longer as powerful or intimidating as they once were, but Lucius and Narcissa still appeared at different wizarding functions, ensuring their faces remained in the media. Draco was more fortunate. Potter had spoken reasonably favourably about him during his trials and as a result of The Chosen One's proclamations, Draco had been pardoned and was treated more amiably than his parents. He had taken the job as potion's professor to keep him busy. He didn't need to work, he had enough galleons in Gringotts to keep him and his descendants living more than comfortably for centuries to come, but he wasn't the type to sit around idly twiddling his wand. After the war he had travelled, desperate to clear his mind of all that had transpired in his life. The beliefs that had been forced upon him by his Father and his death eater associates had been derailed in the most terrifying way. He had been witness to and victim of the allegiance his parent's had chosen to believe in and had been there to watch it all crumble before his eyes. In no uncertain terms, Draco had a lot of head clearing to do. Those kinds of experiences certainly left mental scars, most of which still brought him nightmares to this day. Of course he had the physical scars as well, visible reminders of the life he had no choice but to be brought up in. He rubbed his left forearm surreptitiously over his robes. His dark mark had faded slightly over the years, yet stood out clearly against his alabaster skin. A mark he was forced to get to appease his Father and a mark he was obliged to live with forever. Draco was not proud of his past and rarely removed his tailored white shirts in public, not wanting to reveal the ugly scar tainting his arm.

He returned to England with the desire to keep his slightly clearer mind busy. He had always had a love of potions, ever since he had received his first potions play set from his Mother one Christmas as a child. Having a Godfather who was a potions professor also probably rubbed off on the young Draco somewhat. He enjoyed losing himself in the brewing process, exploring the best uses of aconite and experimenting with the various uses of flobberworm mucus. McGonagall had heard about the young Malfoy's wishes to keep busy and when it had come up, had offered him the position of Potions Professor at Hogwarts.  
His parent's were not enamoured with the idea.  
He was engaged to Astoria Greengrass, a pureblood witch and fellow member of the Sacred Twenty Eight who had been promised to him since the pair were children. Luckily for Draco, the old pureblood tradition of organising their children's marriages to keep the bloodlines pure had worked out in his favour; Astoria had turned out to be a truly beautiful witch. She had a fairly clever mind and a body to keep even the most sexually satisfied wizard coming back for more. Draco loved Astoria, even with her addiction to high-end fashion brands and girly holidays. In his family's eyes, Draco should marry Astoria and focus on the Malfoy businesses whilst raising their family, not be teaching the offspring of others. Draco however, wanted more. He couldn't live purely off of his family name. He wanted to do some good in his life, make his own way in the world before he had to settle down.  
He quickly realised that he loved teaching potions. He was popular amongst the students and soon gained the respect of his colleagues as well. It felt good to be seen as more than Death Eater Lucius Malfoy's son. He was valued within his field and genuinely enjoyed sharing his love of potions with his students. He realised many of his female students became rather giggly in the good looking professor's presence, however as long as they didn't blow up his classroom and handed in their essay's on time, he didn't put much thought to it.

Working at Hogwarts didn't mean he couldn't be with Astoria and it certainly kept his mind busy whilst still dabbling in his love of potions. McGonagall didn't prevent Draco from meeting with Astoria during weekends and holidays. Of course he occasionally had rounds and detentions to oversee, as well as other Hogwarts business, but he often had free time when he could visit her at her home, and she was sometimes permitted to stay in his chambers, as long as it didn't interfere with his duties. Astoria wasn't overly keen on staying over at the castle, so mostly Draco did the visiting. He wasn't due to see her for a few weeks though as she was visiting friends in Paris with her sister Daphne. They had ensured to give each other a good send off, a "something to remember me by" she had said as she dropped to her knees before him in his room. Draco smiled at the memory.

Still, he knew his family obligations would come for him eventually; it came with the territory of being a Malfoy. Sadly, he didn't foresee that he could work at Hogwarts forever. Did any of these speakers have advice on avoiding Malfoy responsibilities? He had no interest in being a socialite like his parents, and although he did want to be a father eventually, he wanted his children to be proud of him, to see him work for something worthwhile, to have a better role model than he did.

His eyes continued to roam along the line of speakers. They'd be here for a while yet; there were still four speakers to go. His eyes moved along the line of faces till they rested on the witch who was getting ready to take her place at the podium. She had her brown hair piled high into a bun on top of her head, a few loose curls falling down the side of her face. She wore a light blue fitted blouse that just peaked out from beneath her dark robes. His eyes travelled lower. Long legs appearing from underneath a tight pencil skirt, leading down to a pair of black high heels. Her robes hid the shape of her arse from view, but Draco could tell it would be a treat if the rest of her body was anything to go by. Her robes fell gracefully from her shoulders, revealing an ample pair of breasts hidden beneath their cloth jail. Sure he was engaged to Astoria, but he was a man at the end of the day, and he couldn't help but notice this witch was beautiful; as did, he observed, many of the male students sitting in front of him. He forced his eyes upwards to her face and was mildly aware of Headmistress McGonagall standing to introduce this wonder. He felt he knew those eyes from somewhere. He joggled his mind trying to think where he knew her from. Surely he would remember such a stunning witch?

"Thank you Mister Heartimis for that insightful view of the work of Arithmancy." McGonagall began as the old man tottered to his seat to the right of the stage. "Next up is a witch who I am very proud to say was in my house whilst she was at Hogwarts. A top student who has worked tirelessly for what she believes in, including starting the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare during her time here at Hogwarts. Now the Deputy Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic, please welcome Miss Hermione Granger-Weasley!" Applauding from the students broke Draco's concentration as Headmistress McGonagall directed their new speaker to the podium. Hermione Granger-Weasley placed her notes on the lectern and smiled out at the crowd who had suddenly gained interest in the famous witch before them. Hermione Granger-Weasley. Draco gulped and sat up in his chair. The Gryffindor Princess was back at Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

_I was able to get this chapter out quite quickly! The fireworks are about to start to sit back and enjoy the show. Will hopefully have chapter three up by the end of the week._

 _As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind._

 **CHAPTER TWO**

"Honestly Hermione, I think you're overthinking it. By the sounds of it the students loved it, I walked past the Great Hall while they were coming out and your name was on all of their lips."

"Eurgh it wasn't the best speech I've given Neville. It's totally different speaking in front of a group of wizards and witches who are there because they have a genuine interest in the ministry and the welfare of magical creatures compared to a group of gossip hungry teenagers. They only really wanted to know about the war. Or about Harry. Or Ron. Or if I knew when Ginny was returning from maternity leave. I felt like I was giving an interview with Rita Skeeter." Hermione sighed and linked her arm through Neville's bent elbow. They were battling their way through the evening's blustery weather towards The Three Broomsticks for a drink following Hermione's careers discussion.

Neville chuckled "Well, you're the Brightest Witch of our Age Hermione, Famous war heroin, a third of the Golden Trio, married to another third of said Golden Trio, best friend of arguably the best Seeker the Holyhead Harpies have had in years AND the Gryffindor Princess, no wonder they..." Neville was stopped in his tracks by a sharp elbow into his ribcage.

"You're as bad as them Neville Longbottom!" Hermione chided him, hiding her laughter in her scarf as her friend rubbed at his side. "And where, may I ask, did the term 'Gryffindor Princess' come from?"

"I believe it was started by the Slytherin's when we were still in school. I heard Malfoy mutter it occasionally when you out performed him in classes, I think it's rather fitting." He caught her eye and smiled, grabbing her arm and forcing it through his once again as they rounded the corner into Hogsmede.

"He was there, Malfoy, during the speeches. That's a face I didn't think I'd be seeing again anytime soon"

"Yeah I knew he would be, he was forced there upon pain of hexing by McGonagall."

"What?" Hermione sounded aghast. "You knew? You knew he'd be there and you didn't tell me?"

"I'll be honest, it slipped my mind. He was over the moon to have been volunteered for it. I remember him offering to jinx some dungbombs to follow me around when I asked if his Father would hear about it.  
Besides," Neville continued when Hermione let out a trickle of laughter, "would it have made you feel more comfortable me telling you he would be there?"

"No, you're right, probably not. I must admit he didn't look too thrilled to be there. He's not lost his sneer I see."

"Malfoy, lose his sneer? There's more chance of Myrtle leaving her bathroom. Speaking of Malfoy," Neville tilted his head in the direction of the bar as he held the door of the pub open for Hermione. "Look who's graced us commoners with his presence."

Hermione followed Neville's gaze and saw the blonde tresses and fitted black robes of Draco Malfoy. With two tumblers of an amber liquid, he was heading back towards a tall dark man who was sat at a booth. Blaise Zabini still carried a haughty look upon his face, however he had also inherited and fine-tuned the looks of his seductress mother, creating a face that exuded wealth. When his friend had seated himself in the booth, they clinked glasses and Zabini's eyes caught Hermione's as he took a small sip from his glass.

* * *

"So, we could be here for a while then?" Blaise ran his eyes over his friend and took a sip of Firewhisky.

"Do you have somewhere you need to be, Blaise?" Draco retorted. With his back to the door he scanned the part of the bar that he could see. It was busy for this early on in the evening and most of the tables were occupied.

"Not particularly. But I can't think what else you could possibly have to moan about. So far from this conversation I've gathered you're missing Astoria; with her body, understandable. You're fed up of dealing with mundane wedding planning, again, completely understandable. For some reason you still have the female students fawning over your skinny arse, now whilst I see how that must be a completely horrific experience for you, you've had an afternoon off yet you still have a face like you've turned up to a blind date and have been greeted with a Flobberworm. People would pay good money to be sat in my presence."

"I have _not_ had an afternoon off." Draco gave Blaise a cold icy stare, one he usually saved for his most infuriating students.  
"And I'm not skinny, I'm elegantly slender." Blaise scoffed at his reply.

"My afternoon was spent sat in the Great Hall listening to wizened old wizards and monotonous hags converse the specifics of their chosen career paths to a group of bored teenagers. Then none other but the Gryffindor Princess turned up spouting her love of house elves and suddenly the room was humming with questions about Potter and the war and the colour of her knickers and Merlin knows what else."

"What? Granger was there?"

"Granger-Weasley" Draco corrected him, finishing off his drink in one gulp, savouring the toasty aroma the alcohol left on his tongue.

"Bit forward, asking what colour she likes her underwear, even for you."

"Fuck off, Blaise."

"Well you can tell you've had an afternoon spent around Granger, your language is as eloquent as ever."

"I told you, it's Granger-Weasley now. She's living in matrimonial bliss with Weaselbee isn't she. Two thirds of the Golden Trio, with her cushy life in the Ministry and her…unmanageable hair. " He clearly struggled for a quip as he reclined; his back resting on the plush material of the booth behind him, hands cradling his now empty glass.

"Why has she irked you so much?" Blaise enquired, also finishing off his own drink.

"Well, it's Granger isn't it? Butter wouldn't melt Granger. Miss 'I can save all the magical creatures in the world' Granger..."

"Granger- _Weasley_." Interjected Blaise, tilting his glass towards Draco, but stopped when he saw the look he received.

"She's still just as infuriating as she was in school, she's not changed one bit."

"Are we just forgetting that this woman helped save you from a spell in Azkaban? Or are we just bypassing that part of your life?" Blaise enquired, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"I'm getting a drink. Want another?" Draco stood moodily, observed the nod from his companion and headed to the bar.

"Same again, please." He addressed the bar man. Why had her sudden and unexpected appearance bothered him so much? Was it because the last time he saw her she was standing up for him, stating her case on why he shouldn't spend his life in Azkaban, something he'd never expect her to do? Was it due to their old school rivalry? Or was it due to the fact that he couldn't stop picturing her brown eyes, or the blush that crept up her face as she headed off questions from the gossip hungry students. He had quite enjoyed seeing her flustered by the questioning, her speech clearly not going as she had expected it to. Or could it have been the unruly mane of hair she'd unsuccessfully attempted to control. No. No, that wasn't it at all. She had certainly changed since Hogwarts, but she wasn't what one would describe as beautiful, Merlin's beard she wasn't in the same league as Astoria.  
He shook his head in an attempt to clear the images of her muggle born arse in that offensively tight pencil skirt as the barman delivered his drinks. Gathering them in his hands he headed back towards the booth.

"This'll have to be the last, I've got essays to get marking tonight." Draco slid into the chair opposite his friend and clinked glasses with him. He smoothed his index finger and thumb across his forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure he was feeling from his day. He put it down to not hearing from Astoria for a few days; she must be enjoying the boutique wizarding shops in Paris.

"You might want to rethink that, mate." Blaise responded. Draco looked up quizzically. "The witch you're pretending isn't bothering you has just turned up with Longbottom. And I'm not surprised she's under your skin, she's changed a _fair_ bit from school, you little liar."

"Oh Gods" Draco huffed, sinking lower into his seat. "Why does she have to be in here? I've had the unfortunate luck of spending the afternoon in her presence, I didn't want to spend my evening in the same bar as her as well." Draco's eyes followed her as she and Longbottom walked past him to the bar. He had a feeling she was deliberately avoiding him as he was her.

Zabini eyed her up over his glass and nodded in approval, swallowing before he began "Married life has been kind to her. She's certainly improved from the buck toothed, frizzy haired bookworm we all knew and loved in school." Draco saw his friends eyes linger on her arse as she leaned on the bar to get the barman's attention. "10 points to Gryffindor!" He mock toasted her.

"Shut up Blaise. She hasn't changed that much. She still loves her house elves and clearly still has Longbottom trying to get into her knickers."

"You seem very interested in Granger's knickers this evening Draco. Let's invite the haughty little Gryffindor and her puppy over shall we and find out how much she really has changed."

"Blaise, don't you dare." But it was too late. Blaise had already stood from his side of the booth and stood facing Hermione and Neville as they gathered their drinks from the bar and looked around for somewhere to sit.

"Well, well, well, never did I think I'd see the day that Granger would be drinking something other than a pumpkin juice." Blaise's voice carried across the bar and stopped Hermione dead in her tracks. She turned to face him, her eyes cool and challenging.

"I've changed a lot since we were children, Zabini."

"So I can see." Blaise raised his eyebrows in an approving manner and Hermione turned her back on him, searching the crowded room for a spare seat.

"You won't find anywhere. The Weird Sisters are playing nearby so the bar will be full of their devoted little followers tanking up before an evening of frivolity. You're welcome to join us, I'm sure we can all squeeze up together." Blaise tilted his head towards the booth and an un-amused looking Malfoy.

"We'd rather stand, if it's all the same." Neville interjected, turning to face the bar but realising their space had already been filled by a group of middle-aged witches.

"Come now," Blaise scooted up next to Malfoy, patting the plush padding next to him as an invitation for the pair, although mainly aimed at Hermione, to sit down. "A little reunion between old class mates. Who could say no?"

Hermione eyed Draco with contempt before sighing and heading towards the pair. Neville plopped himself down next to a disappointed Zabini, leaving Hermione to slide carefully in beside Draco.

They all sat in relative silence, the men nursing their Firewhiskey's and Hermione sipping on her Red Currant Rum.

"Well," began Blaise, "this is nice!" He stretched his arms out along the booth behind him, giving off an air of cool arrogance.

"Oh it's fabulous. This is just how I envisioned spending my Friday evening, sitting in silence with my _supposed_ best man," He glared at Blaise and continued "Longbottom and the Bookworm." Draco quipped, feeling Hermione stiffen beside him. He remembered he had a similar effect upon her when they were younger. However, they were clearly not children anymore, the long bare legs merely centimetres from his own, hidden under the table contested to that. Draco had also changed considerably, however he wouldn't let Granger know that, he had a persona to upkeep.

"Believe it or not _Malfoy_ , there are plenty of other ways I'd like to be spending my evening too. Sat in the same breathing space as you is not one of them."

"A night with your husband, perhaps? Ahh, a night with Weaslebee. One can only imagine how much fun that can be. Tell me, how often does he whip out his Chocolate Frog card collection to impress you of an evening?"

"I'll have you know, Ronald is on a business trip this weekend, gathering supplies for new stock. Not that it's any of your business."

"I didn't know the Auror office had stock to sell."

"Ron works with his brother now in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He's deputy manager due to their expansion." Neville joined the conversation in an attempt to be helpful, unaware of Hermione's glare as Malfoy and Zabini stared at her, incredulous.

"My, my, my, from Auror to shop keeper, how the mighty have fallen. Still, at least we can rest assured we aren't all going to be blown up in our beds by the incompetent Auror. How many strings did Potter have to pull to get him into the Auror office anyway? Without your coat tails to ride on I'm surprised he could manage to spell Auror, let alone work for them."

Hermione slammed her glass down, spilling droplets of rum over the wooden table and fixed Draco with a contemptuous glare.  
"He has more backbone than you could wish for, _Malfoy_."

Draco was about to reply when he was interrupted by a humming sound coming from Hermione. She reached inside her robes to pull out the small box that was vibrating in her hand. The three wizards looked at the muggle contraption with interest.

"What on earth is that?" Blaise questioned as Hermione fiddled with the implement in her hands.

"It's a mobile phone. It's a way muggle's communicate with each other. A bit like sending an owl but more…instant."

Draco looked down to his left at the words on the screen of Hermione's gadget.

" _Hey Hermione, hope the chat went well! I bet you had them eating out of the palm of your hands. All is well in the office. Looking forward to seeing you on Monday, Atticus xx"_

"Does Weaslebee mind you getting sent messages from other men, declaring their excitement at meeting up with you in the office on Monday?" Draco asked, swilling the remnants of the amber liquid around his glass as Hermione quickly replaced her phone in her robes.

"Does Astoria _mind_ you spending your evening snuggled up to another woman in a bar?"

Draco scoffed, "It's only you, Granger, I doubt Astoria would feel too threatened." He downed the drink in one final gulp as Hermione turned in her seat to face him, her knee brushing against his, something Draco didn't fail to notice.

"You haven't changed much have you, Malfoy? Sure you may have filled out a bit and have cheekbones that could cut glass, but you're still the same old condescending, spiteful, supercilious Malfoy I've known all my life."  
She stood and slid out of the booth, resting her hands on the table, staring down at him with contempt, "plus, it's Granger-Weasley now".

Malfoy adorned his face with his famous smirk, slid out of the booth himself and stood right in front of her, Hermione raising herself to try and meet his height. In reality, her chin barely met his sternum, but the look she gave him equally matched his glare. Blaise and Neville looked on, Neville looked nervous but Blaise looked like he was watching an exciting Quidditch match.

He spoke quietly, in almost a whisper, "People can change you know, _Granger_ , maybe you should try it sometime. Although, I don't think there's much we can do about this now is there?" He reached out and twisted one of her stray chestnut curls around his finger. A blush crept up Hermione's cheeks and Malfoy smirked again. Nodding a farewell at Blaise, he pulled his cloak around him closer, weaved his way through the crowd and exited the pub into the billowing wind.

* * *

"Stupid witch." He muttered, slamming the heavy door to his chambers closed and throwing his cloak onto his double bed. Why had he let her get under his skin? He hadn't felt this irritated since some first years had smashed a wall of potions ingredients in their first week back.

Still, at least he wouldn't have to cross paths with her again. He had no desire to ever visit the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and she had no reason to return to the castle. He began to unbutton the cuffs on his shirt and rolled them up his arms, ready to start the pile of marking on his desk. He caught his face in the mirror on the wall and stared at his reflection, his icy blue eyes stared back at him. Granger's eyes held a fiery glint that could have melted his if he was caught unaware. He recalled the look she gave him and a buzz of electricity went straight to his stomach and began heading south to his groin, revealing a longing he didn't know he was yearning for until…

His thoughts were interrupted by a distant knock at his classroom door. He sighed and automatically rolled his shirt down to cover his left forearm as he headed out of his chambers and through his dark and deserted potions classroom.

He yanked open the door to be greeted by Lysandra Copplestone, one of the seventh years from his own house.

"Can I help you Copplestone? It's getting very near to curfew you know, you shouldn't really be down here so late."

"I'm sorry Professor," the girl was still in her school uniform, minus her robes, "it's just I wanted more information from one of the talkers this afternoon. See, it was the speech I was most looking forward to hearing but it didn't give me the information I was after. I was wondering if you could help me?"

Draco crossed his arms and lent on the doorframe, "If I can help, Copplestone, then I will do what I can. What is it you require from me?"

The girl brought her hands from behind her back and presented her professor with a list of questions. He took them from her and glanced down at them.

"You see, I have a list of questions that I would like more information about before I can make an informed decision about my future. I was wondering if you could contact her and send her my questions. I know you know her from school and she helped you after the war and…" The young girl tailed off, blushing as her professor raised his eyes to her.

"To whom am I meant to be writing to?"

"Mrs Granger-Weasley Sir, I'd be ever so grateful."

Draco sighed and nodded, then bid farewell to the enthusiastically grateful teen. He walked through his classroom to his chambers, shutting and locking the doors behind him with a wave of his wand. He slammed the list of questions on his desk and slumped down in his chair. "Damn", he thought. Maybe he wouldn't be able to avoid her after all.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm receiving lots of lovely messages about this story so far! I know lots of you are waiting for the lemons to arrive and believe me, they are on their way and BOY will they be worth the wait! I had a quiet 2 days at work recently so have managed to get this chapter out quite quickly. Hopefully chapter 4 will be done by the end of the week.  
I'm glad lots of you are enjoying reading this and I hope I continue to feed your Dramione hunger.

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

After her stressful Friday, Hermione decided that she needed some time with her two friends and her baby godson. Come the morning, she had floo'd to Harry and Ginny's to play with baby James. Harry had suddenly been called to the office on Auror business so Hermione ended up staying over on the Saturday night to help out with the three month old. The two friends sat in front of the fire that cast a warm glow around the room, orange light dancing on the pale walls. Ginny sat on the sofa with a wriggly baby James resting along her legs, whilst Hermione sat with her back to the sofa, toasting her legs in front of the warm flames.

"So," Ginny enquired, jiggling her finger that was currently trapped in the baby's little fist. "How are things between you and my brother recently?"

Hermione sensed her friend already knew the answer before she began to speak. She lowered her wine glass and stared into the amber liquid. "I don't know really Gin. I feel I never see him anymore. He's either working late at the shop, or out watching a Quidditch match. I feel like I'm essentially in the flat by myself. I can't remember the last time I sat down and had a proper meal with him and he's not joined Harry or I for lunch for ages. He always says something crops up."

"Harry did mention his invites to lunch had often been ignored or put off for something."

Hermione sighed, "I love him Gin, I really do, but it sometimes feels like the spark has gone. We haven't had sex in months, and last time we did he was drunk. It lasted all of 5 minutes, then he collapsed next to me and fell asleep."

As testament to their friendship, Ginny didn't wince at the thought of her brother's sex life. Instead, she picked up James and placed him over her shoulder, rubbing small circles over his back.

"It's perfectly understandable for things to go a bit…stale. I know how much you like to be on top of everything and in control Hermione, but there's no shame in admitting things might need spicing up a bit. I love him too but Ron's hardly the most imaginative person to grace the wizarding world."

"You've pulled the mandrake from the pot there, that's exactly it. It's stale. I miss the excitement, the butterflies he used to give me, the occasional fiery debate, even if it was about food or the recent performance of the Chudley Cannons. At least we communicated. Even when we do talk he's barely listening, or just agrees to whatever I say. Part of me misses the old argumentative Ron, he doesn't…challenge me anymore." Hermione took a long drink from her glass and rested her head back onto the cushion of the sofa seat with a sigh.

"You're the only person I know who wants their relationship to be challenging, Hermione." Laughed Ginny.

Hermione laughed too then turned it into a groan, running her free hand over her face.

"Speaking of challenging, guess who I had the unfortunate pleasure of sharing a drink with yesterday?"

Ginny thought, and absentmindedly said, "Plucking a name out of thin air, Lucius Malfoy?"

"Close but no cigar. Try the younger."

"What, Draco!? Malfoy was just a guess! Why on earth did you share a drink with Draco and why is this only just coming up in our conversation?" Ginny mock admonished her.

Hermione continued to fill her in on seeing Malfoy at Hogwarts and then the debacle at The Three Broomsticks.

There was a pause as Ginny allowed this new juicy story to wash over her. "You know what he's doing don't you?" She carefully checked on the baby rested across her chest. James had finally given in to sleep so Ginny rose and placed the baby in a small Moses basket in the corner of the room. She covered him in a knitted claret red blanket, emblazoned with little golden snitches, all courtesy of Molly Weasley.

"What?" Hermione's eyes followed Ginny as she came back to the sofa.

"He's flirting with you." Ginny said matter-of-factly as she slumped back onto the cushions and tucked her feet under herself. Her eyes held a glint of a smirk as she looked down at her friend sat on the floor.

"Ginevra Molly Potter, what a stupid thing to say. Of course Malfoy isn't bloody flirting with me. Being offensive and rude? Yes. Belittling my beliefs? Yes. Insulting my family? Yes. Flirting? No, definitely not."

Hermione looked flustered and took a sip of her wine to take away the attention from her face.

"Of course he is, that's how people like Malfoy react when they find someone attractive. He's not used to being pleasant to you and starting now would raise suspicion. This is Malfoy we're talking about Hermione. He most likely gets a kick out of getting a reaction from you. He was probably sat in his dungeon at Hogwarts relishing the fact he's gotten to you. He's used to women throwing themselves at him in his youth, so having you stand up to him was probably a red rag to a bull. He'll thrive having the control; he's a Malfoy after all. Still, I can imagine worse people to be sat next to at a bar playing with my hair. You have to admit, he is rather dishy now."

"He's engaged Ginny, Not to mention arrogant and vain. I wouldn't exactly describe him as dishy!" Hermione giggled as he friend lay down on the sofa so her head rested near Hermione's.

"Possibly, but there's something about him that I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe it's all those years of playing Quidditch that have worked wonders on his body, or maybe it's the jawline that he's clearly bewitched off a Greek statue."

"Ginny Potter, if your husband could hear you now!"

"Hey, what happens at girly catch-ups, stays in girly catch-ups."

* * *

Hermione yawned as she stepped into the elevators on Monday morning and pressed the 'level 4' button that would transport her to her office. After the mess of Friday evening, her weekend with Ginny had more than made up for it. However, she still couldn't get the irritating Malfoy off her mind. She really had been prepared to give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt. It had been 6 years since they'd seen each other, and Malfoy had seemingly distanced himself from the traditional pureblood ideologies he had been brought up with. She was sure she remembered an article in the Prophet about him, Zabini and Knott being spotted in a top Muggle club during the summer. So why was he still an arse around her? She had helped save his ass during his trials after the war after all.

The doors to the elevator were almost closed when a hand suddenly emerged between them, forcing them apart once again.

"Good morning Hermione. You look lovely today." The face of Atticus Sweeney appeared where the doors had been and Hermione's new work colleague stepped into the lift with her. He was a tall man with a thatch of brown hair and designer stubble. Hermione supposed he was stoically handsome but didn't really pay much attention to it. He had been working under her for a few months now and had taken it upon himself to bring her a coffee every morning, something that Hermione's Personal Assistant had been particularly affronted about.

"Good morning Atticus, nice weekend?" The lift began to move up and across towards their chosen destination.

"Yes thanks, it was quite relaxed. I did a bit more research on that house elf case though. We might have grounds for bringing Mister Truman in for a discussion about his house elf's welfare. I found some legislation in some old case files and thought we could run through it together at some point?" He signalled to some old manila envelopes in his other hand.

"Oh brilliant, yes that sounds fantastic. I've got some things I need to look into this morning but I'll pencil it in for sometime this week, I'll get Corah to check my schedule out and let you know." The doors to the lift opened and a few interdepartmental memos flew in just as Hermione and Atticus exited.

"I think you'll find the information really interesting Hermione, it comes from the case of Eugine Braithwait and…" Hermione was aware of Atticus talking, following behind her like a shadow as she made her way across the foyer towards the desk of her Personal Assistant Corah Robinson. It was too early to take in all of his information, though she was sure she'd find it interesting at a later hour.

"Good morning Mrs Granger-Weasley! Pleasant weekend I hope?" Corah welcomed Hermione, purposefully ignoring Atticus as they approached her desk.

"Interesting would probably cover this one Corah, yourself?" Hermione gathered some scrolls of parchments that Corah passed to her and tucked them under her arm as she finally took the take-away coffee from Atticus.

"I went on date number three with Tom…" Corah flushed and glanced briefly at Atticus, clearly not wanting to discus her love life in front of him.

Hermione smiled at the young girl in front of her and mouthed 'later' at her, gaining a grin and a nod from her assistant.

Atticus coughed from behind them, indicating not-so-subtly that he was still there.

Her face falling into a fake smile, Corah glanced around Hermione to face the male in their presence. "There's some mail on your desk Mister Sweeney, some look rather urgent."

Atticus straightened up importantly and nodded at the two women in front of him. "Thank you Miss Robinson, I'll see to it immediately. Please could you find time in Hermione's week to squeeze in a discussion with myself? Some important things to go over."

"Of course Mr Sweeney, I'll get right on it." Corah simpered as Atticus walked away towards his own office a few doors down from Hermione's.

Hermione grinned as her assistant gave Atticus' back the middle finger and headed towards her own office door.

"Oh, Mrs Granger-Weasley! I forgot to say, there's an owl in your office. It refuses to let me untie its envelope and I couldn't shoo it out. I'm afraid it's still there. Thankfully I got it to rest on the mantelpiece as opposed to your desk, it was making a hell of a mess with your ink."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted in confusion as she headed into her office and shut the door behind her. It was fairly large and contained an old mahogany desk towards the back of the room. Adjacent to the door was the fireplace that indeed had a large screech owl sitting atop the ledge, in between the old bracket clock and a photo of Hermione, Harry and Ron in their youth.

"Hello," Hermione said quizzically, heading behind her desk and placing her coffee and the scrolls upon it. Before she had finished hanging her cloak on the back of her chair, the owl fluttered over to her desk and stretched out its leg, knocking over some green ink in its haste to deliver its letter.

"You're keen!" She waved her wand to clear up the mess, untied the note attached to the bird and opened her window so the owl could fly out now it had delivered its correspondence. However, as she turned back towards her desk she noticed the owl remained there, it's orb like eyes never leaving her. Amused yet slightly unnerved, Hermione sat at her desk chair and looked at the letter. It was addressed simply "Granger." She took a sip from her now warm coffee and continued to open the letter:

" _Granger,_

 _You'll be heartbroken to know your little speech did not fulfil its desired intentions and for once you have left out vital material. I know this must be news to you as you usually shove every piece of information you know about a subject into the face of whoever is unlucky enough to be around you._

 _A student has approached me requiring more information about your department, which has put me in the unfortunate position of contacting you. She has presented me with a list of questions that she would like answering about the workings of your department and I have enclosed these with this letter. I would appreciate it if you could spare the time between saving house elves and representing werewolves to answer them and reply as soon as possible. The bird won't leave until it has a response._

 _Professor D Malfoy."_

Hermione scoffed. He was even an arse in letters!

"No wonder you're still here. Trust Malfoy to send a persistent bird."  
The owl clicked its beak in reply as Hermione unfolded the other letter in the envelope. A piece of parchment containing about 30 questions greeted her and Hermione sighed. It would take her most of the morning to answer these questions. She pictured the student who sent them and was immediately reminded of herself as a teenager, hungry for as much information as she could get her hands on.

The really adult and grown up part of Hermione wanted to ignore this letter. It would no doubt irritate Malfoy to be ignored and denied a reply and this pleased Hermione greatly. Yet she couldn't let the poor student down; after all, the reason for her talk at Hogwarts was to inform students about working at the Ministry. She couldn't deny the student his or her right to information, that just didn't settle well with her and in the end her desire to do the correct thing overpowered her desire to annoy Malfoy.

Considering her options as she opened her desk draw, she pulled out a clean piece of parchment, dipped her quill in her inkpot and replied.

" _Professor Malfoy,_

 _I'm afraid that yet again I'm going to have to disappoint you. I cannot find the time in my busy schedule between 'saving house elves and representing werewolves' to reply in as much depth to these questions as I would like. However, I cannot let a student's desire for knowledge go unquenched. Therefore I propose a meeting with your student. This can happen either here at the Ministry where I can give your student a tour of the department and answer any questions he or she may have. Alternatively, I can come back to Hogwarts and meet the student in his or her own environment where they might be more comfortable. I am happy to bring any supplies, information, legislations and books with me to support the student in question's needs._

 _If you could find the time between grooming yourself and being an arrogant arsehole then I would appreciate a reply with your decision so I can organise it in my schedule._

 _Hermione Granger-WEASLEY"_

She smiled at her response, folded up her letter and tied it to the bird's leg. It hooted as it took flight through her open window. She stood up, closed the window then returned to her desk. She placed her head in her hands and sighed. She still couldn't avoid him at work, in the confines of her own office.

Thinking back to her weekend, she had to admit the appearance of Draco Malfoy in the flesh had taken her by surprise. His hair was still as blonde as it had been in their youth, however he had cut it so it was slightly shorter at the back and sides. The top was somewhat longer and was kept back from his forehead by him occasionally sweeping his hands through it. She hadn't lied to him about his cheekbones. His face had matured and his once pointed features were now chiseled and suited him well. He clearly shaved every morning, as his chin appeared smooth. What got her the most were his eyes; steely blue with a hint of grey, yet seemingly dark, reminding her she was looking into the eyes of a Malfoy.

She lifted her head and placed her chin on the knuckles of her hand, leaning on her elbow. Her eyes gazed over her wedding photo on her desk and the blue eyes of her husband. They both looked so carefree and happy, eyes only for each other until a rather merry Harry appeared behind them and wrapped his arms around both of them, making them all laugh. The war was over and they had a lifetime of making happier memories ahead of them. She never imagined those eyes would become so distant. What had happened to them? Why did she have a heavy feeling when looking at the photo, and why did she get a tingle in her belly when she thought of Malfoy's own silvery eyes? She sighed again; it was going to be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Let the fireworks continue…

Also, this chapter contains a mild lemon towards the end. If this isn't your thing then just don't read the last section. (However I'd probably advise you skip most of the rest of this story, as it'll be a big vat of bubbly juicy lemonade that just keeps getting fizzier).

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

"Well Draco, when you requested the connection of two Floo networks, never in my wildest dreams did I expect that name to come up. I don't think either of you were very good at hiding your animosity towards each other. May I enquire the purposes of your meeting?"

It was breakfast time and Draco was sat next to the Headmistress at the staff table in the Great Hall. She was eating a bowl of porridge while Draco nursed a steaming hot cup of coffee in his palms, the aroma punctuating his sleepy haze.  
The Great Hall seemed noisier than normal; he looked down at the students sat in front of him, chatting away during their morning banquet, catching up on gossip and dreading nothing except perhaps a gruelling essay. Maybe the noise was just irritating him because he knew he had a long day ahead. A double session with the third years followed by a mock exam with the sixth years, then a handful of detentions to squeeze in, all before his unwelcome visitor was due to arrive. Many owls and numerous insults later, the pair had finally decided to meet at Hogwarts, as neither Draco nor Lysandra could spare a whole afternoon for a tour of the Ministry.

"Copplestone, Headmistress, one of my seventh years. She wanted more information about the department Granger-Weasley works for after the speeches last week. In between some rather loquacious owls, we were able to arrange a day convenient for her to come by Hogwarts to speak to Copplestone. She is bringing lots of resources so the pair can discuss their interests at length. I however, am only there to facilitate the meeting, being Copplestone's Professor. I have no other interest in being there and, quite frankly, would find being at a Celestina Warbeck concert more stimulating than this little engagement."

McGonagall pushed her empty bowl away from her and raised her cup as a floating teapot poured some fragrant infusion into it.

"You know Draco, you and Hermione are more alike than you know, or at least are willing to comprehend. You're both exceedingly bright and if you actually sat down and had an amicable conversation with each other, you might find some common ground."

Draco scoffed "I can hardly envisage the pair of us sitting down to discuss the rights of house elves or the latest developments in the potions field over a pot of tea without something turning sour, and I don't mean the milk."

McGonagall looked sideways at her young colleague and hummed in disapproval. "The floo will be open at 7pm Draco. I appreciate what you are doing for Miss Copplestone, but do try and be pleasant to Hermione. Show her this new side to you. You're a very popular member of staff here and I respect you greatly. Hermione has always held the majority of Hogwarts Professors in high esteem, especially those who show such thoughtfulness to their students. I see no reason why you two cannot bury the wand as it were and move on from the past."

Draco didn't feel he had the patience to quarrel back with McGonagall about his views on Granger. (He had also decided that to him she would always be Granger. For starters, adding the 'Weasley' element was time consuming. Plus, it annoyed her greatly so hence he would continue). The woman infuriated him and the idea of spending any time with her was too much time in his eyes. However, he knew McGonagall wouldn't hear a bad word about one of her favourite ex pupils. Instead, he drained his coffee and rose from his chair. "I appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Headmistress, thank you." McGonagall nodded as he left the staff table and headed down the few steps towards the Slytherin table. He sought out Copplestone who was sat amongst a group of her friends and informed her of their evening meeting. Her friends looked coy as they watched the young professor walk away towards the doors of the Great Hall.

"God's Lyss, what I'd do to be able to spend an evening in the dungeons with Professor Malfoy." One of the girls swooned, admiring the young Professor as he walked away. "And praise Merlin for tailored robes. Do you think we could quiz McGonagall on how to transfigure ourselves into an item of clothing, say a crisp white shirt, and just so happen to turn up in his wardrobe?"

"Unfortunately, I think she might cotton on…" giggled Lysandra, turning her attention back to her breakfast.

* * *

"You're two minutes early."

Draco had his back towards the fire and heard the familiar rush that signalled that someone had arrived in his fireplace. He continued to rummage in the walnut cabinet in the corner of his living area that housed different liquors and spirits, pulled out the stopper of his best Dragon Barrel Brandy and poured himself a generous measure. Inhaling its sweet and intense aroma, he took a sip; enjoying the burn it gave him as it trickled down his throat. Eventually he turned to greet the visitor is his private quarters and was greeted with a tottering pile of old books and ledgers that had seemingly grown a set of legs. Long, shapely legs that disappeared into a pair of red high heels. Draco gulped, shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

"Are you going to help me here Malfoy or just watch me struggle?" Hermione's voice was muffled as she spoke from somewhere behind the pile of papers.

"I'll be honest, I'm quite enjoying watching you struggle." He retorted, but headed over to the witch nevertheless, "but seeing as you asked so nicely…" He reached out and removed a singular book from her pile, revealing a messy top-knot and a pair of hazel eyes that were now scowling in his direction.

"You're such an arse," she muttered as she passed him, placing the stack down on Draco's desk.

"I'm not the only one…" Draco had once again found himself admiring the shapely arse that Granger had captured in yet another tight grey pencil skirt, slightly shorter than last time, he noticed.  
It finished just above her knees but had a slight slit down the back, and when Hermione bent over to deposit her tomes on the desk he got a glimpse of a creamy thigh. He felt that familiar buzz of electricity in his stomach and the tugging in his groin. What in Merlin's name was he doing eyeing up Granger? He'd definitely been away from Astoria for too long if he was taking an interest in his current company.

Hermione straightened up and turned to face him, reaching out her hand to retrieve the book.

"Well this looks like a _fascinating_ read" Draco mocked, holding the book out of her reach as he looked over the title 'House elves and their place throughout history: from assistant to associate'.

"Some of us believe that other magical creatures have an equal footing in society _Malfoy_. Not all of us are so inbred that we merely judge people based on their blood status as opposed to their qualities that make them an amiable and compassionate individual." She snatched the book out of his hand and turned her back on him, sorting her documents into smaller more manageable piles.

"And not all of us are such insufferable, pompous know-it-all's who think they can judge someone based on beliefs they held as a child." Draco took another sip from his crystal glass, raising a cool eyebrow towards her.

"I'll believe it when I see it." She rested against his desk, holding herself up by her arms, fingers tracing the underside of the cool wood.

"Don't get too comfortable Granger, we aren't staying in here, I don't want your Muggle-born germs infecting my private quarters." He meant the insult as a joke, it held no real spite or vindictiveness like it might have done when he was a teenager. However, Hermione obviously didn't catch the quip, as she snorted in exasperation, her eyes downcast.

"And there he is again, it really does seem some things never change, do they? I honestly thought you might have matured a bit since Hogwarts, but being around me again has obviously brought out the best in you."

"Believe me, you haven't seen the _best_ of me." Draco stepped intimidatingly closer to her, eyes never leaving hers.

Defiantly, Hermione rose to face him, just like she had in the pub on Friday night.

"I'm not one of your simpering little schoolgirl devotees, Professor Malfoy. You neither impress me nor intimidate me. I'm not afraid to raise my hand to you again, or my wand for that matter." She snatched the tumbler from his hand and downed the remains of the contents, slamming the glass down on his workspace behind her.

Draco's eyes scanned the clearly, although she'd deny it, flustered witch in his personal space, and pushed his hands into his robe pockets. He observed her pulse throbbing in her long pale neck, the fire that shot through her eyes and the tendrils of hair that had fallen down from her bun, framing her face. He inhaled and captured the aroma of parchment and rose petals. It excited his senses all the more. 

He licked his bottom lip and witnessed her eyes momentarily leave his to glance at his sudden movement, before moving rapidly back to his eyes.

"Is that a threat, Granger?"

Hermione closed the gap between them, resting her hands on his shoulders as she leant close to his ear. His hand fidgeted with the inside of his pocket; not trusting himself to lay a hand on her. He couldn't trust himself to push her away when the tingle in his abdomen was trying to convince him to do all he could to close the gap between them both. He was acutely aware of her breasts pushing into his chest; he could feel her inhale and exhale and shivered internally as her breath ghosted his ear; "You bet."

There was a sudden knock at his distant classroom door and the pair stepped away from each other like they'd been jinxed. Draco coughed and pulled the front of his robes down to straighten them, walking towards his chamber doors and into his classroom.

"You'll be in here Granger. I have marking to do and I'd rather not have you skulking around my private space." He was back in Professor mode, barking orders with a tone of authority.

Draco cursed himself internally as the image of Hermione prowling around his actual 'private space' made his cock twitch. Stupid little witch. Why did Astoria have to be away for another two weeks? He needed to let out his frustrations and Astoria had a certain way of making him forget his grievances.

Yanking open the door to his classroom, Draco stepped aside and let the young girl cross the threshold. "Nice of you to finally join us Copplestone, take a seat in here. Your guest of honour is just sampling my drink's cabinet; she'll be out once she's adequately drunk enough to find sitting in my presence bearable."

Draco removed his robes and loosened the top button of his ivory shirt as he sat down. Copplestone stood awkwardly by the entranceway as Hermione quickly appeared in the opposite doorway, besides Draco's desk.

"Ignore Professor Malfoy, Miss Copplestone. He's just vexed that his Father won't be sending him his pocket money this month, please, take a seat at one of the desks, I'll just collect all the information I think you'll find interesting."

Draco scoffed as he pulled his first scroll of parchment towards him and began marking it, distinctly aware of the smirk displayed on the face of his alumni as she reappeared into the room and started her discussions with the young girl.

* * *

The warm water cascaded over his shoulders, dripping off the ends of his blonde hair as he hung his head low. He'd hoped the pounding of the water would ease the stress he felt in his body.

She still had the knack of aggravating him like no one else could.

She was like one of that oaf Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts. With a simple glare from her eyes or a well-rounded sentence from her plump pink lips, she could burn, sting and bite him all in one go.

"Stop this, Draco for Merlin's sake. You have Astoria, and in a few weeks she'll be back in your bed and you can make up for lost time."

His right hand travelled low, briefly tracing over his abdominal muscles that were soapy with shampoo suds. He grasped his already hardening cock and ran his fingers slowly along the shaft, palming the head before rubbing back along the course he had initially taken.

He repeated this motion till he was fully erect, building up the speed expertly while his mind wandered to thoughts of Astoria; her perfect shapely tits, her slim stomach that lead to the haven between her thighs.

Draco shuddered at the pleasure building in his groin, stifling a moan of desire as he continued to twist the head of his dick in his palm every time he reached the head. He replayed their last evening together as he pumped his hand; the way her ruby red lips swallowed his cock into her warm, wet mouth, her hand cupping and teasing his balls. He gritted his teeth and increased the pace of his hand movements, feeling his balls tighten at the anticipation of their release.

He recalled how she drank every last drop of him when she had drawn his orgasm from him, her eyes shining up to meet his. However, in his orgasm-intoxicated mind, it wasn't the blue eyes of his fiancé who looked up at him, instead they were the brown eyes of…

"Uhhhh…Granger!"

He moaned her name as he came, shooting his release all over his hand and the shower floor. The orgasm rippled through him, finally releasing some of the tension that had built up since he'd first laid eyes on the witch again.

He panted, placing his hand on the shower wall to steady himself, allowing the now cooling water to cleanse him.

It was at exactly that point, that Draco Lucius Malfoy realised he was well and truly fucked. 

* * *

**Oh Draco, what a tangled web you weave!**

 **Things are only going to get more interesting for our favourite Slytherin and his dirty little secret...**


	5. Chapter 5

Well, will our pair finally acknowledge their attraction to each other or continue on their confused journey? Here's a clue, this chapter contains a big, juicy, mouth-watering lemon.

This is a bit of a long one (that's what she said).

I hope you enjoy.

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

Hermione sat in her office and stared blankly at a report about a horde of Bowtruckle's that were under threat. Some Muggle developers wanted to cut down a small woodland area to build a host of new houses and as a result the magical creatures would inevitably lose their habitat.

She hadn't been able to concentrate recently. Her mind was awash with different thoughts, memories and feelings and it was times like this she wished she had her own personal Pensieve to relieve some of the pressure.

To start with, she'd had yet another argument with Ron. She'd taken some advice from Ginny to try visiting him at the joke shop; she'd pointed out that he'd be busy working so wouldn't be able to make up an excuse not to see her.

Ginny, however, was wrong.

When Hermione had turned up at the store, George greeted her warmly and nodded her through to the offices located at the back of the store. Ron was moving some stock around the room, his shirt was covered in dust and he looked surprised to see her there.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" He angled his face and Hermione kissed the proffered cheek, brushing some cobwebs off his hair.

"Does a wife need an excuse to visit her husband?" She perched herself precariously on top of a large box, testing it's strength before she put her full weight upon it.

"Of course not, it's just a surprise that's all. A lovely surprise I might add!" He added the latter part of the sentence when he saw the look he was given.

"That it is Ronald Weasley. Now, I have an unusual meeting free afternoon and wondered if you cared to join me for some lunch. I was thinking of trying that new place down by Florean Fortescue's? Corah at work went recently on a date and…"

She stopped mid sentence as Ron put the box down and rubbed the back of his head.

"That sound's great 'Mione, it really does. But I've already got plans this afternoon. Could we perhaps do it another time, say next week?"

"Could you not cancel? I don't usually get afternoons off."

"It's not something I can really brush off, it's been planned for a while."

"Well can't George go? I mean you're both joint partners now; can't he go instead of you? We've not been out for a meal for months, probably since before James was born."

"It's…it's not business related, well it is, but it's not really something George can cover." Ron looked awkward and his cheeks turned a rosy colour that clashed with his hair. He sighed and placed the box down on the floor.

"An old friend is back in the area and is interested in opening up a shop. She just want's some advice about running a business so we're going to discuss it. Over lunch…"

"She?" Hermione tried not to sound snubbed.

"Lavender Brown."

"Oh. Right. Ok then." She couldn't hide her affronted tone this time. She stood and picked up her bag, brushing her skirt off.

"It's only lunch Hermione. Don't be like that."

"Like what, Ronald? Slightly annoyed that my husband can suddenly drop everything to go out for a meal with an _ex_ -girlfriend, when I have been trying to sort something out with him for months? I think I have a right to be ever so slightly vexed."

"I told you, she wants business advice. There's nothing in it, I promise."

"You _promised_ me you'd take me away for the weekend for our anniversary. If I remember correctly I was sat by the Portkey until well past it's expiry time. When you eventually decided to turn up you were three hours late, drunk after an evening out watching the Chudley Cannons and collapsed in your clothes on the sofa. Forgive me if I don't think your promises hold much weight."

"Merlin, Hermione, you're never going to let me forget that are you?" He turned his back on her, picked up another box and slammed it heavily onto a pile of other containers.

"Enjoy your lunch Ron. I hope you're as informative as Lavender remembers. Tell me, do you want me to make some notes for you before I leave? You know, for old times sake."

"Gods, there's no need to be a bitch about it." He muttered under his breath.

Hermione stood dead in her tracks.

"Excuse me?" Her tone was quiet, yet the iciness of it screamed of both hurt and indignation.

Ron groaned, rubbing his face in his hands. He took a tentative step towards her and rested his hands on her upper arms.

"Listen Hermione. I'm meeting up with Lavender Brown for lunch to discuss business. That's all. There's nothing else to it. You're reading into this too much. I'll see you at home tonight." He leant towards her and kissed her on the forehead then proceeded to walk past her into the main body of the shop, leaving Hermione agitated and alone.

That was on Tuesday.

This morning saw the irritation of her meeting with Atticus. She knew he was competent enough at his job; he always produced interesting and accurate facts and figures to support different legislations. However, she was increasingly finding he was constantly around her, more so than her own personal assistant.

He was forever bringing her drinks, found different excuses to pop into her office and at the end of the day he would always offer to walk her to the main floo's in the atrium. It was smothering.

Maybe Ron was right; she was being a bitch recently. He was probably just trying to find his feet in his new job and was doing his best to please his boss.

She could no longer put off her meeting with him though and had spent a full three hours of her morning listening to his notes that he'd gathered to support his theory about the treatment of Mr Truman's House Elf. They finally came to the conclusion that Mr Truman would be brought in for questioning about his treatment of his House Elf, Puggle. Hermione had eventually managed to get shot of Atticus by occupying him with the role of informing Mr Truman of their intentions.

Once he'd left, she let out a sigh of relief, rubbing her temples to relieve herself of her headache. Her skull felt like it had a Hinkypunk living inside of it, and she recalled it had moved into her cranium shortly after her unfortunate meeting with Malfoy. She just couldn't shift it.

Speaking of Malfoy, there lay the third and final thing that was causing her mind to fog in confusion. Their little spat had given her a rush of adrenalin like she hadn't felt in a long time. He'd enraged her with his usual slurs, but she got a huge sense of satisfaction remembering the look on his face that showed she'd rattled him just as much.

She also remembered the fire she'd felt in her belly at being so close to him. She wasn't sure if it was the scent of him that she'd inhaled as she leant in close, or the firmness of his upper arms that she'd felt when she whispered in his ear.

She felt guilty at the tingle she felt when thinking of him.

She was married, he was engaged, not to mention the fact he was an ex-Death Eater. This was bloody Malfoy she was thinking about.

And this is where Hermione found herself Wednesday afternoon. Staring at the Bowtruckle report, trying to absorb the information whilst attempting to keep her mind off the three men that were exasperating her. Ron had hurt her and pissed her off, Atticus was suffocating her, and Malfoy…she wasn't sure how he'd left her feeling, and that in itself bothered her.

Hermione pushed her chair away from her desk and walked to the wall of books located behind her, searching for something to help her get some perspective on this Bowtruckle case. She heard a knock on her office door, and shouted, "come in" without turning around. Corah was due to deliver some old manuscripts from the archives that lay at the end of their foyer.

She heard the 'thump' of a heavy book landing on her desk and turned around in surprise, beginning, "Corah, you startled…"

It wasn't Corah.

The smirk that greeted her could only belong to one man, and, annoyingly for her, it was the same smirk that she hadn't been able to get out of her head.

"Malfoy. How did you get in here?"

"It was simple really. Your little assistant wasn't at her desk so I knocked. You said come in, I opened the door and came in." He sat himself down in one of the chairs opposite her desk.

"It was decent of you to knock. You seem the type just to barge in where you're not wanted."

"Well, it seems some Pureblood manners can't be knocked out of you."

"Are these the same manners that give you the assumption that you can just come into my office and take a seat without being invited to do so?"

"Watch that sharp wit, Granger, or you'll cut my throat with the tone alone."

Hermione sighed and headed back towards her desk, resting a hip against it as she stared down at the wizard in front of her.

"What is it you want, Malfoy?

He nodded at the book he'd deposited on her desk.

"You left a little, or should a say large, something in my classroom the other night." His head nodded towards the offensively heavy book he had deposited on her desk.

"I thought it bordering on animal cruelty making an owl try and get this here, and thought it might even be a bit of a push getting one of the house elves from the kitchen to do it."

"So you thought you'd be my knight in shining armor and deliver it yourself? Doesn't sound like something you'd do, Malfoy."

"Merlin, Granger, a simple thank you would have done. I thought you'd be impressed I hadn't got one of your beloved magical creatures to deliver the property that you're reckless enough to leave lying around. Instead, here I am getting a bollocking for passing it in myself."

"It's not like you to consider the thoughts and feelings of house elves, forgive me for sounding surprised that you even pondered their welfare."

Draco stared at her and ran a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to fall down across his forehead.

"Really, Granger? Are we going to do this again?"

"Do what again?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not that little boy anymore. I don't hold the same philosophies my parents forced me to believe in. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me? I stopped believing in all that shit years ago. If I suddenly waltzed into the dining room at the Manor announcing my love for Muggleborn's they would have slaughtered my family. They would have made me watch and then murder me as well. I was trapped; I had no other option. If you remember correctly when the Snatcher's brought you, Potter and Weasley into the Manor I didn't tell them it was you. If I truly hated Muggleborn's, don't you think I would have spoke out straight away?"

He huffed in exasperation and leant forward in his chair, hand on his knees and head drooped down. Where did that come from?

Hermione felt a tangle in her gut. Was that guilt? Was she really feeling guilty for causing Malfoy to erupt in such a way? No, it must have just been the mention of the war bringing up emotions she had long since buried.

In a quiet voice, Draco continued.

"I no longer think Muggles are a species to be eradicated, I no longer think their magical children should be hunted down and banned from a magical education. When you're brought up in such a regime of hatred and intolerance, it just becomes a part of you. Yet when Voldemort decided to use the Manor as his headquarters, I was forced to watch everything, every single fucking thing that they did to Muggles and Muggle-borns. I was like his toy that he thought he could mold into the perfect Death Eater. Even when it made me physically sick, they still forced me to watch. The screaming, the pleading, the…mess. You really think I could watch all that and not have a slight change of heart?"

Hermione gulped and moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it.

"I'm…I'm sorry Malfoy…I.."

But he cut her off, sitting up again in his chair. He fixed her with a stare that bore into Hermione's head, agitating the Hinkypunk that was still hanging around in there.

"Save it Granger. An apology doesn't sound right coming from your mouth. I'm not asking for your pity."

"I don't _pity_ you." She crossed her arms across her chest. "I suppose it's just a bit of a shock hearing that coming from Lucius Malfoy's son."

Draco scoffed and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. Hermione couldn't help but stare. That tangle in her gut that she thought was guilt had suddenly been replaced with something else. Watching the man in front of him toy with his lips was…mesmerising.

"I'm used to it. Good old Lucius Malfoy. People still look at me you know, obviously thinking exactly what you do. That I still have the same beliefs that I did when I was 15. People try to keep their distance whilst trying to subtly stare."

Guiltily, Hermione couldn't blame people for staring. Although she hated to admit it, being this close to him again, it was hard to deny that Draco Malfoy was a good-looking wizard. She was wrong about him shaving every day. Today he wore his stubble well, it glittered across his jawline and accentuated his punctuating blue-grey eyes.

He wore a fitted white shirt that was tucked neatly into a pair of tailored grey suit trousers. His black robes were obviously expensive and Hermione wondered if they were as soft as they looked.

"It took McGonagall ages to convince the Governors that I was the right wizard for the job of Potion's Master. But she did it, and I think that only now, three years later, are people finally seeing that I might be good for it."

"I heard you're a brilliant teacher Malfoy, your results have been the best in a long time…"

"Of course my results are brilliant. I'm a fucking fabulous teacher…"

Hermione rolled her eyes; arrogant Malfoy was back.

They stopped staring at each other as an owl flew in through her open window and deposited an edition of the Evening Prophet on her desk. She gave the bird a few coins from her robes whilst Malfoy grabbed the tabloid.

"Trouble in paradise, Granger?"

"What?" Hermione tried to grab the paper from Malfoy, but he stood and held it out of her reach.

" ** _Granger no longer his Golden Girl?"_**

He read the headline, then continued.

 **" _Ronald Weasley, perhaps most famous for being a third of the wizarding world's Golden Trio, was spotted yesterday afternoon dining with an unnamed witch. The pair appeared close as they shared a bottle of Sorceress Rosamund's Red Wine over their three course meal. Weasley and his wife, Hermione Granger-Weasley, have not been spotted in public together in quite some time and this inquisitive reporter wonders if the astute witch has lost her 'golden girl' shine in the eyes of this ex-auror?"_**

Hermione charged at him, successfully managing to grab hold of the paper by leaning her hand on his firm chest. He placed his hands in his pocket and watched Hermione scan the front page.

At the bottom corner of the paper there sat a photo of Ron and Lavender Brown that accompanied the small article. They were sat across from each other and were clinking wine glasses, not taking their eyes off the person opposite. They certainly didn't look like they were having a business meal. Hermione felt anger bubble inside of her but she'd be damned if she'd let Malfoy see her riled up.

"Well, they certainly look cosy." Draco spoke into the silence, waiting for Hermione to move from staring at the desk.

"It's just a business lunch. Lavender just wanted some advice about opening up her own shop." Her voice was quiet and controlled.

"And she went to Weasley? She must be desperate."

She stood up tall, glaring ominously at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well Weasley couldn't pour Butterbeer out of a boot with the instructions on the heel, could he? We all know he only scraped through his exams by you force-feeding him notes at every given opportunity. Why on earth would she go to him for business advice?"

Hermione again walked around to the front of her desk, standing oppressively close to Malfoy.

"I'll have you know, _Malfoy_ , that Ron happens to be excellent at what he does."

Hermione knew she was partially lying, but she'd never let him know that. If truth be told, Ron was adequately successful at being the assistant manager at the shop. It was George that had the business acumen and yet again Ron had found himself in a role that simply required bouncing off the skills of another.

Being this close to Malfoy was having an affect on her again, even despite her anger. He smelt pleasantly unusual, of sandalwood and jasmine. She wasn't sure if it was his cologne of his natural fragrance, but it intruded on her senses, clouding her thoughts.

"He may not share the same intellect or fastidious mind as _you_ , but he's kind, and thoughtful and…comical."

"Yes, he's certainly comical. And he definitely looks thoughtful here, like he's not giving his wife another thought." He signalled to the photo and Hermione grabbed it, scrunching it in towards his chest.

"He makes me feel valued and appreciated and…and everything you never made me feel in school."

Draco grabbed her hand that was still resting on his chest, the paper remained scrunched in her palm.

"And how do I make you feel now, Granger?" he whispered, their eyes locked onto each other's; chocolate meeting ice.

She stared up at him and swallowed, unsure how to answer. She knew exactly how he made her feel, and she'd known it for a while now. He excited her, he challenged her, and he made her feel alive, like she didn't just exist, waiting for her husband to make himself available. The excitement had suddenly turned to lust and Hermione had forgotten how strong desire could feel.

"I asked you a question. How do I make you feel?"

Draco could feel it; the restraint and control was bleeding out of him, being soaked up by the curly haired, smart-arse in his grasp.

"You…you…you piss me off." It was barely audible. Hermione wasn't sure how there weren't sparks flying off the pair of them.

The atmosphere was electric and palpable.

Draco slowly began to walk her backwards; Hermione was so absorbed in his features that she barely noticed. Once her back hit the solid wall, he grabbed her other hand and moved her wrists to either side of her face. She gasped, unsure if she was angry or incredibly turned on at this sudden show of authority.

"Pissing you off was always fun." His breath tickled her face, the peppermint infusing her senses.

"I bet this is exactly where you've wanted me isn't it, Malfoy. Under your control, in your power, backed up in a corner with nowhere to go."

"They always said you were the brightest with of our age." He whispered it, merely millimetres from her lips.

Hearing her gasp solidified his actions in his mind, and before he could think of whether it was the correct thing to do, or if he'd regret it, he did it.

He smashed his lips against hers with a sense of urgency he didn't know he needed. They were soft and plump against his own and miraculously he felt her kiss him back.

It was deep and rough and selfish at times.

He kept her arms pressed against the wall and when his tongue traced her bottom lip, he felt her open her mouth almost immediately. His tongue traced hers as if to awaken it, and soon their tongues were fighting, each trying to take control. Refusing her the opportunity, he removed his tongue and instead nibbled on her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth with a playful nip.

She moaned and ground her core into him, causing him to smirk and move his mouth along her jaw to the pulse point behind her ear where he kissed and licked. He continued down her throat, lapping at the patch of skin between her clavicle that was just visible in the gap at the top of her shirt.

He sucked hungrily at her collarbone, so much so he was sure it'd leave a mark; a visible reminder of their fornication.

He was driven on by the moans and gasps coming from her, and he released her wrists, dragging his hands up to her cheeks and held her face there as they kissed again.

It was hands, and mouths and tongues that had no real destination or motive. They just knew they couldn't get enough of each other in that moment. It was like a thirst they couldn't quench.

He paused, resting his forehead against hers and stared into eyes as if asking for permission.

Hermione didn't need to think. She hadn't felt this wanted since…ever. Things had never been like this with Ron and all she and Malfoy had done was kiss.

She wanted more.

She needed more.

To answer him, she pulled his shirt out of his trousers and ran her hands underneath. She felt every muscle that was hidden from her view and bit her lip to try and control the desire within her.

Draco almost growled and attacked her mouth again, his hands running into her impertinent curls as Hermione's fingers traced the short hairs on his abdomen.

His hands left her head and reached her shirt, ripping it open without a care for the state it would be in once he was finished with her. He was greeted with her small but perky and full breasts, apprehended in a red lacy bra.

Draco smirked.

"Gryffindor through and through, aren't you Granger?"

"Shut up and put that mouth to some use." She moaned, thrusting out her chest as he kissed the mound of flesh that was accessible to him.

With one hand he pulled the cup of her bra down, releasing a perfectly pink nipple, his other hand trailing lower to the outside of her thigh. As his tongue traced around the sensitive nub at her breast, the hand at her thigh traced the hem of her skirt and gradually, agonisingly slowly pushed it up to her hips. He moved his leg between her own to steady himself, pushing his erection into her hip.

Hermione whimpered. There was a swirling, fluttering tingle that sat right below her rib cage that felt insatiable. It travelled down like lightening to her groin and she couldn't help but grind on his knee, desperate for the friction.

Suddenly, he replaced his knee with his hand, swallowing her moan into his own mouth as his fingers traced the wetness that had pooled along the centre of her knickers.

The kiss became a clumsy clash of lips, it was frantic and heated. Hermione worked quickly to undo his belt, pulling open his zipper and pushed her hand inside his trousers. This time it was her turn to be greeted with a moan when she wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. It felt fairly large and a nice thickness, filling her small hands. Her thumb found a pearl of pre-cum at the head of his cock and she rubbed it down his slit and around the head.

"Fuck, Granger." He mumbled into her mouth, biting her bottom lip again.

His fingers had found he edge of her knickers and pulled them aside, running one skilful finger along her soaking slit. Hermione gasped when he suddenly drove one, then two fingers into her, curling them forwards and nudging the sensitive spot against her inner wall. His thumb found her clit and rubbed it gently.

"Shhh," he reminded her when she almost screamed. He ran his nose up her neck till his lips were at her ear. "I didn't cast any silencing spells on the room when I came in."

They continued to grind into each other's hands like desperate teenagers until Hermione thought she might combust.

"Malfoy…" She whispered against his ear.

He paused his ministrations, resting his forehead against hers again and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Tell me this is what you want."

She ran her nose against his before answering.

"I don't want this Malfoy. I need this. Please…"

He smirked and kissed her hard again, ripping off her knickers and eliciting a gasp of surprise from Hermione. He pulled her legs up and around his waist, resting her against the wall. His hands found her ass and gave it a hard yet playful squeeze.

Using one hand to steady herself on his shoulder, she pulled his cock out of his trousers and he gasped as it met the cool air of the room. She lined it up with her entrance and they stared at each other for the briefest of moments.

Suddenly Draco slammed into her. He wasn't careful and he wasn't slow. It was quick and sudden and everything Hermione needed at that moment.

"Gods Granger, you're so tight. So wet." He watched her eyes widen then flutter close as he continued to move inside her. He grabbed her arse tighter to give himself some leverage.

"It's for you, it's all for you." She whispered as he assaulted her neck with kisses again.

Her back arched and pushed her breasts towards his neck, just high enough for him to leave her neck and lick and nip at the new arrivals with desire.

Her words caused him to move quicker and deeper within her.

This wasn't a slow, sensuous session. It was needy and desperate and filled with want and lust. Their childhood animosity towards each other had been replaced with a pure animalistic craving.

Hermione felt herself tightening around him, consuming his cock deeper and deeper inside her as she knew she was getting closer.

He pushed into her again and again, urging her towards her release.

He became acutely aware of her tightening further around him and knew it was only a matter of time.

"Come for me…" He stared into her face, biting her lip and continuing to thrust into her. He released her lip as her mewling became lost in her throat; her mouth growing wider into an 'o' shape.

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut in pure pleasure. Just as she began to scream the arrival of her orgasm, he pushed his mouth against hers to dampen the sounds that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within her. He swallowed her moans of delight and heard a muffled "Malfoy" against his tongue. He continued inside her, allowing her to ride out her orgasm.

"Uhh, Granger…" The squeezing around his cock suddenly coaxed his own release, and he bit his lip to hide the further shouts of his own pleasure, tasting blood immediately.

They rested against each other in an amalgamation of sweaty, panting and highly satisfied bodies.

She held his face in her hands and lent down to kiss his lips, tasting the metallic tang of his blood.

There was a knock at the door and Draco quickly but carefully dropped Hermione back onto her feet. They fixed their clothing rapidly, Hermione needing the added help of magic to fix her torn shirt and to mask the bite marks on her skin. Draco bent down to pick up Hermione's discarded knickers and pocketed them, smirking at the look on her face as he did so.

"One second!" Hermione called to the visitor, as the knocking came again. She checked the room to make sure everything was as it should be as Draco headed towards the door. She followed and got close to him again.

"It seems we keep getting interrupted by infernal knocking at doors." He stated, reaching for the doorknob as she kissed him quickly, but briefly on his lips. He opened the door a smidge but Hermione caught it before it was fully open.

"Thanks Malfoy...for returning my book."

He nodded and opened the door fully, revealing Atticus with a mug of tea in his hand.

"Anytime, Granger." He winked and waited for Atticus to step aside and left Hermione standing in her office, flustered, confused, yet highly content.


	6. Chapter 6

A big thank you to all the people who have spent their time and reviewed/ followed/ favourited/ pm'd me about this story! It's getting a lot more love than I ever could have imagined and I'm so glad you're enjoying it :) I promise there's lots more smutty goodness to come soon!

Right, let's get down to business.

All aboard the feeling's train! Destination: guilt?

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

 _His fingers were buried deep inside of her, combining a mixture of artistic strokes with skilful thrusting. She was so wet that she could hear the noises coming from her._

 _She'd normally be embarrassed at the audible evidence of her lust, but it spurred him on._

 _He moaned._

 _Knowing she was inadvertently turning him on as well just made the whole experience more erotic._

 _He lightly nibbled at her breast, his teeth leaving tiny grooves along the stiffness of her nipple. She arched her back at the sudden rush of pleasurable pain and she felt him smirk against her. His mouth travelled up her chest towards her collarbone, her nipples getting even stiffer at their sudden loss of heat._

" _Who makes you feel this good?" His words were muffled against her skin, but she knew what he'd said._

" _Urgghh…y…you do…" She gasped out, one hand grabbing the underside of her pillow, twisting her head sideways into it to find something to bite down onto._

 _His lips had found her ear and he breathed against her again._

" _Say my name…"_

 _She was so close, she didn't think she could force her mind to compute his request and form a logical sentence in reply._

" _Say it Granger, or I'll stop…" His fingers paused their movements inside of her, yet his thumb grazed playfully over her clit, sending her hurtling over the edge as she screamed her reply:_

"Draco!"

Hermione woke with a start. She gasped into the darkness, trying to get her bearings.

Her knickers were soaked with her lust and she felt the flutter of her arousal slowly dwindling.

A slither of moonlight crept in through a small gap in the curtains, allowing her to locate her wand on the bedside table. She twisted it noiselessly in the air and the time '03:28' twisted out of the end in a ribbon of smoke then disappeared into the darkness. She dropped her wand on top of her legs that were only just covered by the bedcovers.

She was hot and sweaty and her side of the covers were tangled around her.

She tilted her head slightly as she massaged her neck, trying to calm her breathing. Noticing the man sleeping next to her in the bed, she sighed in relief; she obviously hadn't woken Ron with her very graphic dream and distinct shout into the darkness

The sudden memory of what had transpired the previous afternoon hit her like a tonne of bricks.

They'd fucked.

Her and Malfoy.

They hadn't had sex.

No.

The only word that described what they'd done together was fucked.

Hot, desperate, frantic, steamy fucking.

She felt awful. Why had she done it?

She was married to one of her best friends. They'd been through so much together. Sure, she and Ron were going through a difficult patch, but that didn't excuse her behaviour.

And with Malfoy?

She hated him, didn't she? He was arrogant, egotistical, and calculating. He got under her skin and pissed her off.

He was also captivating, seductive and made her feel both desired and desirable. She hadn't felt so wanted or alluring in years.

She held her head in her hands and sighed. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him, she inhaled him, she felt him, she tasted him. She ran her hands down her neck in exasperation; her fingers brushing along the bruises he'd left her with and she again felt the increasingly familiar burning between her legs.

Fuck.

If her 16-year-old self could see her now, she'd think she'd been hit by a mixture of the Confundus charm and the Imperius curse.

She turned again to look at the sleeping back of her husband and gave him a remorseful stare.

They'd argued.

Once he returned home on Wednesday evening, Hermione had thrown the Evening Prophet at him, demanding to know if he usually shared a bottle of alcohol and brushed fingertips with everyone he met for a business lunch.

Ron had argued back, claiming Rita Skeeter's niece had inherited her Aunt's ability of distorting the truth.

They quarrelled back and forth, throwing home-truths and insults between each other like a Quaffle. Hermione stood firm on the fact that a photo never lied, and Ron feigned indifference, claiming she was reading too much into it.

In retrospect, Hermione was probably spurred on by her own guilt at what she'd done with Malfoy, yet she knew she also had every right to be livid with Ron

Oh Merlin, the guilt. It would eat her up, she was sure of it.

It was a mistake. A mistake caused by her anger at Ron and the lack of excitement in their relationship.

Bust she couldn't risk her marriage, her friendships, her reputation because of one mistake caused in retaliation through her anger. She wouldn't let it.

She pulled the remains of the covers off her legs and stepped into the cool air of her bedroom. Her minutes of musing over her feelings had allowed her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. She pulled out a scrap piece of parchment from her bag and headed to her dressing table where she found a quill nestled between some perfume bottles and a Muggle novel.

She wrote two simple words and folded it up tight. She opened the pages of the book and tucked the folded parchment into it like a bookmark.

The coldness in her room was biting at her toes, so she headed back into bed, slipping in silently and carefully so as not to wake Ron.

She would send her note first thing in the morning, before she could change her mind.

* * *

 **" _Never again."_**

He read it for what felt like the 50th time.

It wasn't signed, but he knew damn well who it was from.

He read it again.

He didn't know why he kept reading it.

Those two little words explained all they set out to.

There was no confusion as to their meaning, yet he analysed the inky marks scratched into the parchment as if they held a secret that they refused to tell.

He also didn't know why these two words bothered him so much. It was unlike Granger to be so short of words, yet he also knew that in typical Granger style, she was right.

He knew it himself, yet he hadn't quite had the impulse to admit it.

Once he'd got back to Hogwarts after leaving the Ministry, he had just enough time left of his lesson free afternoon to sit and brood in his office like a true Slytherin.

Guilt was a fairly new emotion for Draco to feel, but it was definitely one of the sensations he was currently experiencing in floods.

Why had he done that to Astoria?

He loved her.

The poor witch was currently shopping for their wedding with her bridesmaids in Paris. They were meant to be together, they were prefect together.

It was if they'd both been put under a charm when they were small that ensured they both grew up to be exactly what the other needed.

So why had he _needed_ to shag Granger?

He didn't go to her office with the intention of accosting her against her office wall. But once she was in his grasp, he knew the only thing he needed right in that moment was her. He felt as though he would have combusted if he hadn't acted on his impulses.

And Merlin, was it good.

Her moans, her touch, the scent of her skin, the taste of her lips.

Hearing her whimper his name was the icing on the cake.

As much as he loved every minute of the illicit affair, he couldn't do that to Astoria, not again anyway.

Was he meant to tell Astoria?

No.

He definitely couldn't tell her.

It would ruin everything. For starters, he'd worked his arse off to restore the family name and a scandal like this would send them straight back into the mud.

It would ruin everything with Astoria too.

He couldn't do that to her, she didn't deserve that.

No.

Would Granger tell Weasley?

He was sure the guilt would kill her, but he also knew that she would do everything she could to avoid hurting people. As this was a one off blunder, he was sure she would do all she could to avoid hurting her husband.

This was all a mistake and he would also do all he could to forget about it. He knew it would be easier said than done; every time he handled parchment he would remember her fragrance.

But no one at all would benefit from hearing about this; the admission would hurt too many people.

Merlin, if people could see him now, Draco Malfoy, considering other people's feelings.

He groaned into his hands.

It was now Thursday afternoon and considering he was supposed to be forgetting about their little stint, the arrival of her letter had released the broomstick ride of emotions all over again.

He opened his desk drawer and threw the now folded letter inside it. He slammed it shut and his hand brushed past his robe pocket, the stiffness of another letter residing inside it. He reached inside and pulled out the parchment, recognising the flowing text immediately.

 ** _Draco,_**

 ** _Paris is beyond beautiful._**

 ** _The weather here is so much nicer than at home, I'm getting a fabulous tan that I can't wait to show you._**

 ** _Daphne, Della, Olivia and I ventured into Muggle Paris yesterday to see the sights. I've enclosed a picture of us at something they call the 'Eiffel Tower'. It's like a tall metal chess piece that doesn't do anything, I don't know what the point of it is but the views from it over Paris are wonderful. I think even you'd like it!_**

 ** _Mother has managed to get Monsieur Alain Jaquet, yes THE Monsieur Alain Jaquet, Europe's top wizard tailor to make your dress robes for the wedding! Not only that, he's been showing me some of the most beautiful dresses and I think I've finally found the one (not that you'll be allowed to see it until the big day)._**

 ** _You simply must come out here at the weekend. He's only available on Saturday afternoon so I thought you could come out, I can show you the sights and you, Blaise and Theo can get measured up. He only had enough time to measure the three of you, so he said he'd consider travelling to the Manor to measure up our Fathers nearer the time._**

 ** _The French sunshine will do wonders for you, it's not healthy you being cooped up in your little dungeon classroom all day._**

 ** _I miss you terribly; it's odd to stay in a hotel bed without you._**

 ** _Go and turn your Slytherin charm on old Headmistress McGonagall!_**

 ** _I'll see you on Saturday._**

 ** _I love you._**

 ** _Yours forever,_**

 ** _Astoria_**

Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched the two photos of his Fiancé, her sister and her best friends. In the first they were all pulling silly faces next to a bizarre looking structure which must be that 'Eiffel Tower' she mentioned, and the other showed Astoria, Della and Olivia trying to prise Daphne's hands off her eyes so she would look at what must be the views from the top of the tower.

Observing her laughing and excited face, the wave of guilt washed over him again.

Could he face seeing her this weekend?

He noticed in her letter that it wasn't a request to join her; not turning up wasn't an answer.

Could he really be bothered standing around getting measured by some high-end, modern designer he hadn't heard of?

He sighed, if this is the wedding Astoria wanted then after what he'd done, it was the least he could do.

But would McGonagall allow it?

It would mean getting another Professor to cover his detentions Saturday afternoon.

Maybe seeing her again would remind him how great they were together and how much he missed her.

Maybe it would put this whole Granger business to bed.

He grumbled as he pushed his chair along the stone floor, causing the scraping sound to echo around his chambers. He shouldn't put 'Granger' and 'bed' in the same sentence; it was forcing immoral thoughts to corrupt his senses, that familiar tingle erupting near his groin again.

He slammed his hands on his desk as he stood up.

Enough.

Enough now.

He exited his rooms and made his way up to the Headmistress's office.

* * *

 **"Feelings never do make sense. They get you all confused. Then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started."**  
 **Blair Waldorf**

 **Hmmm, is it really that easy to just forget?**


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you all for your continued support and feedback with this story. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

I think we all need a bit of Draco in our lives ;)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

Thankfully, she hadn't heard from him since she'd sent her note last week.

She wondered if he regretted it as much as she did.

Every time she saw a blonde head in the crowd, she felt the crushing weight of guilt and anxiety overcome her.

She knew that with him busy teaching at Hogwarts, her chances of bumping into him again were as slim to nil, Neville had more chance of becoming the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

Yet, a small part of her had to admit that when she'd thought she'd seen said blonde head disappear into the lifts in the atrium at work, there was a definite shot of something in her veins. She wasn't sure if it was shame, embarrassment, or maybe even exhilaration.

Things in the department were quieting down while they were awaited the results from the Bowtruckle hearing and Hermione had finally found time to meet up with Harry for lunch.

She was currently waiting in a Muggle café for him to arrive, reading the subtitles on the television that was showing the lunchtime news, though her mind was on other things.

"You know, you'll get square eyes, staring at the TV so intently?"

She was interrupted by Harry, as he approached her from behind and placed his hands over her eyes.

"So, what's your excuse, Potter?" She quipped back, turning in her chair to hug her friend.

"Ouch. I have bad eyesight as a result of fighting off the darkest wizard of our time when I was a baby! One of the side effects, you know…" He held his palm to his chest in mock hurt as he sat down, grinning as Hermione started to laugh.

He lifted himself briefly off the chair, pulling a copy of the Daily Prophet from under him that had been left there by the previous occupant.

"Harry Potter, the boy who lived….with terrible eyesight."

Harry put out his hands in a proud shrug, before asking "Usual?"

"Please."

He stood and went to order at the counter, leaving Hermione to pull over the Daily Prophet and muse over its headlines.

Turning the page, she was greeted with an image that caused simultaneous reactions to happen to her body.

A hot flush that started in her cheeks and travelled down to her toes indicated the rush of attraction, of intrigue. This was quickly doused by a wave of ice-cold shame and embarrassment. Then, a burst of annoyance shattered these emotions; to be replaced with a buzz of…was that jealousy?

" **Parisian date for Malfoy Heir**

 _ **Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Lucius Malfoy and up-and-coming Potions Professsor at Hogwarts School has recently been spotted in Paris with his fiancé, Astoria Greengrass. The pair were seen entering the high-end hotel 'La Maison Louvois' in central Paris, followed attentively by close friends. The couple have been engaged for just over a year now and rumours are rife that a summer wedding awaits the Pureblood pair. With a combined family worth that would make most wizards wince, it was surely no surprise to spot top designer Monsieur Jaquet exit the exclusive hotel a while later. This is certain to be the wedding of the year, with no expense spared to make it so. It is no secret that the younger Malfoy and his bride-to-be have worked hard to shake off the manacles of the discriminatory philosophies shared by their ancestors, and it is rumoured that the wedding will contain many Muggle wedding traditions. Although, one can hardly believe that the Slytherin Alumni will allow his bride to indulge herself in the "something blue" component of Muggle wedding customs.**_

 _ **The pair are pictured below, leaving their hotel for an evening out in Paris."**_

Malfoy was, unsurprisingly, donned in his trademark smart, tailored shirt and fitted trousers. He was missing a tie and his top button was open, a reference to the heat of the European air. His hair looked recently styled, elegantly swept back off his face with but a few strands that rebelled and fell lazily from their counterparts. One hand was hidden in his trouser pocket; the other was laced behind the back of his fiancé as they climbed down the steps of their hotel. He turned his head, eyes gazing over her face before he leant in and placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.

Hermione's eyes lingered on the witch in the image: she was stunningly beautiful.

Her long chestnut hair fell in styled waves across her shoulders, and her dress clung to all the right places. Hermione noticed how perfectly white her teeth were when she smiled up at him, her lips plump and pouty.

What on earth had made Malfoy sleep with her, when he had a beautiful fiancé like Astoria?

She could ascertain from this little escapade that he hadn't let on to Astoria about what had transpired between them.

Although she hated to admit it, part of her felt anger at him, yet this was quickly swallowed when she remembered that she also hadn't told anyone.

She had no right to feel anger, she told herself.

As she looked again at the wizard in the image, she could no longer deny that he gave her butterflies in the place between her thighs.

Of course, she was probably just attracted to the excitement of what they'd done, to being made to feel alluring and wanted again. Attracted by the way he made her feel, rather than him himself.

However, as her eyes traced his tall, striking figure again, she couldn't actually deny it anymore; she was disastrously, catastrophically and devastatingly attracted to Draco Malfoy. It was a crushing realisation, but the feelings she got when looking over his image solidified the fact.

As soon as he'd left her office the previous week, she found her mind would wander back to their sexual confrontation, and during the evenings he punctuated her dreams at least once a night.

Sometimes he was just a face in a Ministry meeting, and others he played a more…hands on role.

She knew it would go no further, like a schoolgirl crush on a professor. Yet, the way he'd made her feel was addictive; she realised now that she craved his touch, the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her.

Had he secretly slipped her a potion to make her infatuated with him? Put a spell on her that meant every time her mind had down time, he'd inject himself into her thoughts with his wandering hands, lustful gaze and that trademark smirk?

She'd sighed as she recalled that she'd sent him the note to clarify that their little encounter wouldn't happen again.

It crossed her mind if he'd even received it, he'd been in Paris after all and the article didn't state how long he'd been there.

Had they shagged and then he'd darted off to Paris to be at his Fiancé's beck and call?

She supposed she should feel guilty for finally admitting these feelings to herself, yet she had been so annoyed and infuriated by Ron and his lack of interest and disregard to her recently that it just wasn't an emotion she could fit into her already crammed psyche at the moment.

What in Merlin had gotten into her?

She flushed at the thought of what actually had gotten into her as she looked again at the image of Malfoy.

She folded the paper in half just as Harry arrived back with two cappuccinos and a table number.

"I'm fed up of those two already and they haven't even had the wedding yet. Do you know I have to send one of my Aurors to Malfoy Manor once a week to search for anything suspicious left by Death Eater sympathiser's that want to disrupt the wedding?"

"Why would anyone waste their time disrupting Malfoy's wedding?" Hermione questioned, blowing on her drink before taking a tentative sip.

"There's reason to believe that there may be some ex-Death Eaters that slipped the net who want to hit Lucius Malfoy where it hurts. Rumour has it they're angry, as they believe the Malfoy's got off relatively lightly after the war. With Draco having a sudden change of heart regarding his loyalties, what better way to get back at them by killing the Malfoy Heir?"

Hermione looked shocked as she stared at Harry.

He added a sugar to his coffee before he noticed her eyes burning into him.

"What?" He asked.

"That's a bit…extreme of them isn't it? Would people really want to do that?"

"Hermione, I'm head of the Auror division. Believe me when I say I deal with a lot bigger threats than someone trying to see off Malfoy."

Hermione quietened for a minute as their sandwiches were brought over by a plump, elderly waitress.

"Do you believe him? Malfoy? That he's changed?"

She tried to sound offhand and conversational, when really she knew she was asking to solidify her own thoughts on the matter.

"Draco? Yeah…Yeah I think he has. I wouldn't have defended him in his trials if I didn't believe he'd changed his beliefs somewhat. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he'll be out adopting hoards of Muggle babies, but I do believe the war changed his beliefs. I've seen him a handful of times since his trials and, despite the old school ground slurs, he does seem to have dropped his prejudices towards Muggles and Muggleborns."

Harry took a bite out of his sandwich, before fixing Hermione with a smirk.

"Anyway, I do believe I'm not the only one who's been in Malfoy's presence recently…"

He left the sentence hanging and Hermione flushed again, coughing on a piece of her sandwich.

What did he know?

"Merlin Hermione." He stood up and slapped her on the back a few times.

As she regained her composure, Harry continued, "McGonagall and I owl each other a few times a month, she told me you had been to Hogwarts to help one of his student's out or something?"

He raised his eyebrows at her behind his glasses.

She breathed a sigh of relief and took a long sip from her cup in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks.

She filled him in on her meetings with Malfoy, missing out the obvious Hippogriff in the room as they finished off their lunch.

It was Hermione's turn to pay for the meal, so after leaving the correct amount of Muggle money on their table, the pair left and headed back towards the Ministry together.

"Shame Ron couldn't make it…again." Harry stated as they crossed the road, placing his hands inside his robe pockets.

Hermione linked her arm through his and sighed.

"He owled me just before I left, said George was running late at a meeting so he had to stay at the shop."

Harry looked at her as they entered the Ministry and walked through the Atrium together.

"Things still not any better?"

She gave an exasperated laugh as they waited for the lifts.

"I wish I could say they had Harry, I really wish I could…"

They stepped into the lift together and Harry wrapped her in a friendly hug, just as the lift doors closed.

* * *

Corah returned to their small table in the corner of the bar, two glasses of elf-made wine in her hands.

"So, what happened after you went back to his?" Hermione enquired, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of the blood-red elixir.

Corah looked embarrassed but laughed all the same.

"Well, he'd disappeared into the kitchen to get us a drink and I was looking at his books on the fireplace. I picked one up and it screamed at me, like a full on blood curdling scream! I, obviously, screamed back and threw it down. However, I accidentally knocked over his jar of floo powder and it smashed into the fire, which in turn caused the biggest flames you have ever seen to erupt in the fireplace, all different colours and sparks. If I wasn't so shocked by what had happened I would have found it fascinating. Instead I did the educated thing and … screamed again."

The young witch shook her head as Hermione roared with laughter.

Once she'd composed herself, she asked, "What did Tom do?"

"He ran in and just looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. Then he said I must be a pretty special witch if I nearly set his house on fire and he still wanted to take me upstairs…"

She grinned behind her glass as Hermione giggled again.

The pair had been out for a few drinks after work to catch up on gossip without Atticus around.

Corah knew of Hermione and Ron's current difficulties, yet she didn't dare tell the young girl about Malfoy. That was her dirty little secret.

But tonight was for hearing about Corah's new love interest, Tom. They'd been out for a few hours and were getting thoroughly tipsy.

Hermione had never been one to find the answers to her problems in the bottom of the bottle, but tonight it was certainly helping her forget about both Ron and Malfoy. It was giving her brain a breath of fresh air that would no doubt be full of their presence tomorrow, along with the added nag of a hangover.

They carried on chatting and drinking for a while, before Corah spotted a familiar figure approaching them through the gloom of the bar.

"Shit, duck! Keep your head down! The man who's desperate to get into your knickers is looking for us!" Corah scooted down in her seat, encouraging Hermione to do the same.

Hermione flushed immediately, thinking instantly of Draco, before she heard the monotone drawl of Atticus arrive at their table.

Hermione felt disappointed for more than one reason.

"I've been looking everywhere for you two, you didn't mention we were going out here for drinks, I've been down the road at the other bar!" Atticus forced himself down onto the bench Hermione was sat on.

Hermione grimaced "It must have slipped our minds, sorry Atticus." She avoided looking at the witch opposite her in case they giggled. They had accidentally on purpose not told Atticus about their change in location

"No problem! I'm here now!" He grinned at the pair and placed his hand on Hermione's thigh under the table, squeezing slightly.

She grabbed the offending body part and looked him in the eyes.

"Hand's to yourself, Atticus, I'm married remember!" She signalled to the golden band on her ring finger.

"I'm only playing 'Mione." He held his hands in mock defeat and grinned inanely.

Corah huffed as Hermione stood and tried to exit their table.

"And I'm _only_ going to get some drinks. Same again Cor?"

Corah nodded as Hermione looked expectantly at Atticus to stand so she could squeeze out of the bench.

Instead, he held his hands high in the air, signalling her to climb over him. She shook her head in annoyance and barged past the man to her right, pulling the hem of her dress down as far as she could as she passed him.

"I'll have a Wizard's brew." He spoke as Hermione bent down to collect her purse out of her handbag.

She stood and glared at him before heading to the bar, desperate to get away from the lecherous man. He seemed to be becoming creepier by the day.

She stood at the bar and waited for one of the bartenders to notice her. She finally ordered the three drinks and was watching the wizard making her order when she felt a hand on her lower back and she stiffened in surprise.

She turned to glance over her shoulder and was greeted yet again by the stubbly face of Atticus.

"Sorry about that back there 'Mione, I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine Atticus. Just remember I'm your boss and it's not appropriate behaviour, also, it's Hermione, not 'Mione." She turned away from him, feeling him move to stand beside her again.

"It's just….I saw in the Prophet about your husband…and I think you're a truly wonderful and beautiful witch, I think you're wasted on him…" He leant forward and whispered to her, nuzzling the tender flesh under her ear.

Hermione pulled away as if she had been electrocuted.

"You know nothing, _nothing_ about my marriage Atticus. Now I'm going to put your behaviour down to your drinking, but if you speak to me or touch me like that again I swear to Merlin I'll slap you so hard your Grandkids will try and get their hands on a time turner to come back and stop me."

"I'd listen to her if I were you mate, she has a formidable right hand on her."

A cool voice came from her left hand side. She turned abruptly to see Draco Malfoy who kept his eyes focussed towards the barmaid, and gulped.

"And who the fuck are you?" Atticus straightened up and stared at the blonde stranger who had interrupted them.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. An old friend. And as I said, I'd listen to her if I were you. I don't know if you have this effect on everyone, but I know your behaviour is definitely bugging the shit out of me, so why don't you take your leave and let the two women get on with their evening, hmm?" Draco turned to face Atticus, raising a cool eyebrow at the man and taking a sip from the amber liquid in his newly arrived glass.

The barmaid delivered Hermione's three drinks just as Atticus was brave enough to scowl at Draco.

He reached for his glass, downed its contents and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow." He nodded at Hermione before quickly exiting the bar.

Keeping her head down, looking at Atticus' empty glass, Hermione spoke in almost a whisper, "You didn't have to do that Malfoy. I had it under control."

"Yeah, it looked like it. You looked more flustered than when Potter was beating you in Slughorn's Potions Class." Draco nodded as the barmaid brought back his change and turned to face Hermione again.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, not daring to look up at him.

"I'm having a drink Granger, the same as you. Thanks for the note by the way."

Her eyes shot up to meet him at these words; chocolate meeting cool ice.

"You got it?"

"Of course I got it Granger. It arrived a few days before I left the country for a bit. Funny how two simple words can go around and around in your head, it feels like they're burnt onto my eyelids."

Hermione gulped and looked over Draco's shoulder to look between the bodies to find Corah. Her attention was pre-occupied looking at the drinks menu so Hermione continued her conversation.

"How was Paris?"

He searched her face, looking for some indication of emotion about his recent break away.

"I see the Prophet still find my upcoming wedding the height of interest." He scoffed, looking down and swirling the ice around his glass before continuing.

"It was warm. Busy. I spent most of the trip doing exactly as Astoria demanded, including getting manhandled by some flamboyant designer. I'd much rather have spent it being manhandled by …"

"Your fiancé?" Hermione interrupted him.

She felt his eyes burn into her and she gulped again.

"Something like that…"

Hermione's finger traced the stem of one of the wine glasses in front of her. She needed to keep her hands busy as her whole body was screaming at her to close the distance between them.

"Listen…I've got to go…Corah…"

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt his hand slip behind her back and rest against her hip, pulling her close. The numerous people surrounding them at the bar hid his actions.

He smirked at her sudden gasp.

She tried to pull his hand away, but he took the opportunity to weave their fingers together. She looked down at their entwined hands and he grasped her tighter.

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind Granger. It's like you've put some fucking spell on me. Every fibre of my being is screaming out for you in such a volume that I'm surprised you can't hear it."

His breath tickled her ear causing her to shiver in anticipation. His words travelled to her abdomen, fanning the flames of desire that he'd left her with last week.

"Malfoy…I.."

"Don't you dare say you don't feel the same. The way you were moaning my name and grinding into my cock. Don't say you've not been craving it since. Merlin Granger, my fingers are desperate to be buried inside you again."

His fingers gripped hers even tighter and she turned her head slightly so they were nearly cheek to cheek.

She felt her pussy twitch in excitement and her eyes looked over his lips, smelling the cinnamon of the whiskey on his breath.

To a passing stranger it looked as though they were simply two friends trying to communicate to each other over the loud music.

"We can't. I'm married…You…Astoria" He had left her incapable of forming a sentence; she spoke in monosyllables, stuttering over her own words. She bit her bottom lip, forcing her eyes up to meet his.

He exhaled the breath he'd obviously been holding and took a small step away from her. He rubbed her thumb with his own before letting go of her waist.

Hermione was left feeling cold at the sudden space that had emerged between them. She felt like she could trip over the silence that greeted her. She needed to get away and without giving him another glance, she headed straight back to her table.

"What took you so long?" Corah looked over Hermione's pink cheeks.

"Sorry, I bumped into an old acquaintance, we got chatting…"

"Did they take our drinks as well?"

Hermione looked down at the table and realised she hadn't brought the drinks over.

"Shit…sorry…I'll just go back and…" She stood to leave again but was greeted by a waiter from the bar.

"Excuse me Madam, you left these at the bar." He placed the two wine glasses on her table.

"Oh, thank you! I don't know what came over me." She smiled at the man, handing Corah her own glass.

"And I was asked to give you this." The barman nodded at her and weaved his way back through the crowded room.

He had passed her a small piece of parchment that was folded down the centre. She opened it discretely and read the words upon it, recognising the writing immediately.

" _ **You know where I am when you change your mind."**_

* * *

"Mamihlapinatapai – A look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin." – from the Yaghan Language of Tierra del Fuego.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you again for all the reviews and feedback, it keeps me wanting to write down all these words that seem to blindside me at 2am

Special thank you to RJ for her continued inspiration and encouragement.

Let's find out how Hermione deals with Draco's proposition!

(This is a bit of a filler chapter, stick with it though as it's going to get juicer again very soon!)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

Draco had been thankful that some of his lesson load had been cut down recently; his mind just wasn't in the game.

It was the time of the year when a quirky Ministry Official would arrive at Hogwarts to teach the sixth years to Apparate, ready for their test when they turned 17.

These sessions just happened to have fallen on the days he was meant to be teaching them, meaning he had the afternoons and evenings to do as he pleased.

Yesterday was one of those days, so while his 6th years were busy in the Great Hall trying their best to master the "three D's", he'd spent the beginning of the afternoon trying to take his mind off his trip to Paris.

* * *

It had started well.

It had been nice to see Astoria again and she had temporarily taken his mind off Granger.

Being there with Blaise and his other friend Theodore Nott had made the trip much more enjoyable as he wasn't forced to spend the entirety of his weekend shopping.

Once he arrived in the sticky heat of Paris, he was joined in his hotel by Monsieur Jaquet.

He was a portly wizard whose eyebrow to face ratio was vastly out of proportion. His robes were vibrant and clashed horribly, as though he had gotten dressed in the dark.

Draco just happened to mention that he hoped his robes were getting designed in daylight and was met with a scowl from the eccentric designer.

Monsieur Jaquet stood to Draco's side, his bewitched measuring tape doing the hard work for him, while he simply noted down the numbers. Draco was suddenly hit simultaneously in the stomach and between his shoulders by a pair of chubby hands.

"You zlouch terribly Monsieur Malfoy." His French accent rang through the room and Draco turned an ice-cold stare at him over his shoulder as the man continued with his movements.

"Malfoy's do not slouch." He retorted back, his lips thinning in annoyance.

"Well zen, ztand up ztraight! Sacré bleu you ztand like ze weight of ze world iz on your shoulders! You are getting married to a beautiful woman, ztand tall and proud!"

 _If only you knew what was on my mind_ , he thought.

He heard Theo and Blaise snigger from the corner of the room and shot them a death stare.

"I'm standing like I'm in a stiflingly hot room being prodded and poked by an ostentatious _trou du cul._ "

"Don't forget Monsieur, it iz _I_ who iz in charge of how you will look on your wedding day."

His voice greeted Draco from behind his left shoulder, a threatening whisper that was designed to put him on edge.

Draco was annoyed.

The man's constant jabbing and the heat of the room was aggravating his usual cool demeanour. He tried to hold his tongue but the attempt was futile.

"Don't forget _Monsieur_ , it is _I_ who is in charge of _you_ getting paid."

Draco raised a cool eyebrow as the man reappeared in front of him and huffed importantly, scribbling down the last measurements as Draco stood down from the platform.

"Next!"

* * *

Draco's mood remained sour for the rest of the trip.

The spat with Astoria's expensive celebrity associate and the addition of a photographer from the Prophet following their party around, all added to his grouchy disposition.

They lay in bed together on the Saturday evening in a post coital stupor. She had her head resting on his chest while he played absentmindedly with her hair.

Sex with Astoria felt different this time.

Of course he'd enjoyed it, yet he couldn't help but think it was predictable and somewhat monotonous.

He made the right noises in the correct places and played his part well, but he just couldn't help remembering how exciting and exhilarating the sex with Granger was.

He'd always loved sex with Astoria, yet throughout their recent coupling he couldn't help his mind wandering to the other witch.

As her hair fell softly through his fingers, he wondered what Granger's hair would feel like post sex, lying on his chest. Although her hair had tamed slightly since their school days, it was still a profuse nest of curls.

"So I've found this amazing townhouse in Oxford, it has 5 bedrooms and…" Astoria interrupted his thoughts.

"We already have a house Astoria."

" _You_ have a house Draco."

"Yes, well if you're going to be pedantic, _I_ have a house that _we_ have already discussed you will move into. It's just been done up costing thousands of galleons, we don't need another house. And why do we need one with 5 bedrooms? McGonagall has agreed to let me leave at weekends so I'll only be there for half terms, holidays and weekends."

"What's McGonagall got to do with this? We already agreed you'll stop working at Hogwarts after the wedding!" Astoria leant up to look at him, indignation clear in her eyes.

"Woah. When did we _ever_ agree to that!?" It was Draco's turn to sit up this time, dislodging Astoria as he leant against the headboard.

"Well, I thought it was obvious. What kind of couple would we be if I only ever saw you at weekends or holidays? No, it's best you hand your notice in so after the honeymoon we can start our married life properly."

Astoria held the bedcovers around her torso as she got herself comfortable on her pillow, her long hair trailing behind her like a silken sheet.

"'Tori, I'm not giving up teaching when there's a perfectly workable solution to this issue."

"Draco, I'd be a laughing stock! All my friends live with their husbands, I'm not asking you to kill anyone. You don't need that job, you definitely don't need the money so you can give it up."

"'Tori, I've finally found something I'm good at because of who I am, not because of who my Father has threatened or thrown money at. I'm not going to give up my position when I don't need to. I already have a house that is more than big enough for both of us with room to spare. We don't need a new house. Besides, you're hardly ever in the country anyway! You're on holiday at least once a month with your friends. What am I meant to do, just wait around till you come back home?"

"No. You'll be working with your Father, Draco. I thought this was all understood. Your Father agrees…"

"Oh does he now, well there's a surprise." Draco threw the covers off himself and swung his legs out of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees; running both hands through his hair.

"Where are you going? Don't storm off in a huff, it all makes sense, you know it does. You don't need to work there anymore. Your Father will eventually need someone to carry on with the family affairs, you'll be needed at home."

"I'm needed at Hogwarts, Tori. We have a house already, I love my job, you love travelling, there's no need for anything to change just because we're married." He stood up and pulled on his discarded black boxers, heading for the bathroom.

"Oh, Draco," Astoria giggled as she used her wand to turn off the lights on her side of the room. "When we get home we'll work out how much notice you have to give to McGonagall and I'll put an offer in on the house. Once they know who we are I'm sure we'll be able to sign the paperwork pretty quickly."

Draco grunted as he slammed the bathroom door closed behind him. The weekend hadn't turned out to be the 'marriage sealer' he hoped it would be.

He turned on the cold faucet on the sink and splashed cool water over his face, looking up to stare at his reflection in the mirror.

The soft pink lips of the woman who wouldn't leave his mind alone were suddenly giving him a Malfoy-worthy smirk from over his shoulder. Her brown orbs searched his face till they found his eyes and he blinked. When he reopened his eyes, she was gone.

"Merlin," he whispered, gripping onto the edge of the sink. It had been a long day, and Granger was still well and truly stalking his thoughts.

* * *

He had returned to Hogwarts late on Sunday evening and tried to distract himself with work. However, when Astoria sent him photographs of the house one of the following mornings, he had decided that once he'd delivered his 6th years to the Great Hall he would contact Blaise and Theo and see if they wanted an afternoon drink.

He'd spent a few hours in the bar with his two friends and had inevitably moved onto discuss his argument with Astoria. They all agreed that he was well within his rights to oppose her and remain teaching at Hogwarts.

"It's about time you stood up to her, mate. If people knew the famous Draco Malfoy was under the thumb you'd never live it down. You may as well change your name to Mrs Draco Greengrass." Theo analysed Draco over his drink and grinned.

Draco gave a mock laugh in reply.

"Hilarious as always Theo. I hope you lend some of your wit to Blaise here for his Best Man speech." He finished his drink and slammed the tumbler down on the table.

Blaise was always the more attentive of Draco's friends and nudged his elbow.

"So, is this really all that's bothering you? Astoria being her usual bossy self? You don't normally need a mid week drink to deal with her."

Although he knew he could trust his two best friends implicitly with the news of his affair, he just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. He never knew who else might be listening, especially with the journalists that seemed to be following him around recently.

If he was honest with himself, this weekend had reminded him that he and Astoria clearly wanted different things from their future.

His time apart from her had masked his old feelings of doubt.

She wanted the stereotypical pureblood marriage, were the husband kept his fingers in as many pies as possible to keep the money coming in, while the wife gallivanted around on numerous holidays; appearing together at as many social events that the calendar facilitated.

He was beyond angry that she assumed that it was already decided and expected that he should give up his teaching job.

He loved that job and his life at Hogwarts, he was in no rush to give it up, at least not yet anyway.

Were he and Astoria really as compatible as they thought?

They had been betrothed for nearly as long as they had both been alive, they had essentially been reared to form a relationship; it was expected of them. Of course she was gorgeous, he couldn't deny that; but was she really right for him?  
He'd spent so long believing that his life was headed in a certain direction with her, yet she'd never given him the kick of exhilaration that he'd felt with Granger.

His Mother and Father had been lucky in a way.  
They fitted together like pieces of a puzzle; each supporting the other when they found one in need. Their love for each other remained strong and paramount, even after all they had been through.

He felt trapped with Astoria.  
He felt burdened with the weight of the wedding and the expectations projected on him.  
Sex with Granger had been like a breath of fresh air. It was exciting; a deviation from the monotony of wedding planning and smiling for journalists.  
Did he really love her? Or was he just used to the feeling of knowing that whatever happened, they were to be married?

He finally answered his friend, "I dunno, Blaise. Wedding pressure I guess."

His eyes rose up and fell on a figure he recognised, but he wasn't sure where he knew the man from. It was only when the male turned, clearly looking for someone, that it clicked.

It was Granger's little lapdog, the cock block from their last encounter.

He sat up in his seat, aware of Blaise and Theo speaking, but not taking in a word they were saying. Their words washed over him as he watched the unnamed man search the bar for someone he recognised.  
Only when he stopped floundering and strode confidently to the side of the room did Draco notice her.  
Merlin, why did she keep turning up around him, physically as well as mentally?

He was surprised he hadn't spotted her earlier.  
Her hair was unmistakable, even from this distance.  
He watched their little scene play out in front of him. The man was clearly annoying her, he recognised that look of disdain on her face anywhere.

He heard his friends laugh and inserted his own polite chuckle, pretending he was still listening.

Granger was at the bar now. She was in her work attire still, he noticed the painfully tight pencil skirt and blouse and swallowed.  
He needed to get closer to her, even if it was just to inhale her perfume.

"I'll get the next round in."He didn't even wait for his friends to answer, unaware that he was the only one in his party that had finished their drinks.

He walked behind her, considering how much of a stalker he appeared, yet also not really caring.  
It was then he saw the man had followed her and was whispering in her ear, his hands travelling low on her back.  
An immediate shot of jealousy entered his bloodstream as he watched the man's hand travel slightly lower towards the curve of her arse.

Hermione recoiled from the man and looked repulsed.

He caught the end of her scolding and couldn't help but speak.  
He felt an odd sense of anger and protection over her. He hadn't meant to speak at all, yet this man's advances were clearly unwanted by her and he felt an overwhelming urge to get the man as far away from her as possible.  
Once the worm had crawled away out of sight, the words fell out of him like they were burning his throat.

He didn't know where his confession came from.

Maybe it was the disagreement with Astoria, or maybe it was as a result of the alcohol now in his system, forcing him to admit the truth, like he'd taken a shot of Veritaserum.  
He could tell she felt the same. He felt her breath shudder next to him as he told her what he desperately wanted to do to her; saw the fire in her eyes as she glanced up at him.

She hadn't denied him though. She simply did the typical Granger thing and stated the facts.

Things were definitely complicated; there was no denying it. Yet the feelings he got when he was with her were the most alive he'd felt in years. She was addictive and he needed a fix, and he knew she felt the same.

He would leave the Quaffle in her quidditch pitch, so to speak.

When she disappeared back to her table, he wrote a quick message on an old receipt the barman gave him, and threw him an extra Galleon to deliver the note.

He returned back to his table, acutely aware of Granger searching the bar for him.

* * *

It was now Saturday, and Draco was escorting some of his fifth years into Hogsmede.

He hadn't heard from her.

Had he really expected her to just turn up at his chamber doors in the middle of the night?

As much as he'd like that, he knew it was unlikely to happen.

The spring air was fresh, a light breeze causing his robes to billow around him. His hands rested in his robe pockets as he enjoyed a fairly animated conversation about Quidditch with his students.  
Draco had played a fair amount of Quidditch in his time and his pupil's clearly valued his opinion, asking him questions and wanting his views on new techniques they'd witnessed. He gave off an equable demeanour. Pupils felt comfortable to talk and joke with him, yet they still afforded him a comfortable respect.

He was what would probably be described as a 'cool' teacher, and he was bloody proud of it.

His pupils left him at Honeyduke's Sweet Shop and he continued on towards Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, when he was suddenly barrelled into a deserted side alley in between two buildings, away from the hustle and bustle of the high street.

With his hands encased in his pockets, he could not untangle himself to reach for his wand and his attacker had him pinned against the wall by his upper arms.

Before he could adjust himself to his new environment, he felt a sharp slap against his cheek, causing his head to crack into the wall behind him. The pain hummed in his head, forcing him to close his eyes, disorientating him further.

"You're a fucking arsehole Draco Malfoy."

He at last managed to release his hands from the pockets of his robes and placed a hand on his flaming cheek, inhaling through his teeth at the sting. He carefully opened his eyes but they lingered on the unkempt stone floor of the isolated alleyway.

"I'd recognise that backhander anywhere. Must you always be so hands on, Granger?"

He smirked as he finally looked up into the face of the woman who filled him with maddening guilt and an insatiable, intoxicating longing.

It seemed he and Granger had unfinished business after all.

* * *

 **"We're all just a bunch of addicts, struggling with our drug of choice." – Author Unknown**

 **(obviously if you know who wrote this, feel free to let me know and I'll happily change it)**

 **Oooh, I think I can smell something citrusy in the air…**


	9. Chapter 9

Ooh I do love writing these scenes! And there will be plenty more to come. Things will just keep getting juicier, I promise. (Maybe with a shot of angst, anger and humour thrown in for good measure)

Thanks again to my best RJ, our midnight conversations are the best!

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

"What're you doing here?" She sounded panicked, still holding onto the fabric at the tops of his arms.

"What?"

"What're you doing here, Malfoy?" Her voice rose an octave and she shook him, slamming his head back into the wall again.

"Sweet Circe, Granger! Stop with the assaulting of the head!" He used his arms to push away her vice like grip she held on him. Grabbing her wrist, he glanced around the alley to check they were still alone, then pulled her further into the gloom and turned left behind the shop so they were even more isolated.

He released her quickly, running his hand down the back of his skull as he analysed her. She was breathing quickly, pacing like a caged animal.

"You're a fine one to talk about 'assaulting of the head'. What's going on here!?" She sounded flustered but there was a tinge of something else in her tone. Was it anger?

"Well, I was minding my own business when someone decided to forcibly drag me in between two shops and give me a concussion. Why _you're_ here though is another question."

She stared at him aghast, clearly annoyed by his response.

"Hogsmede weekend, Granger. I'm escorting the students here, I managed to shrug off the third years though for the cooler older kids."

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, obviously not catching onto his humour.

"So you expect me to believe that this is pure coincidence? That you just happen to be in Hogsmede on the same day and at the same time as me?"

Draco looked baffled. Stepping towards her slowly, he reached into his robe's inside pocket and pulled out a form, extending it towards her. She looked at him cautiously, before taking the form and unfolding it, noticing the Hogwarts emblem.

"A list of the younger students I'm, theoretically, meant to be babysitting. May I draw your attention to the day, date and crest all clearly visible on the form? So yes Granger, I believe this is a 'pure coincidence' as you called it." He reclaimed the form from her grip and replaced it into his robes.

"What are you on about anyway, 'assaulting of the head? I haven't laid a hand on your head. Well, not since…."

He was stopped by Hermione's hand clamping over his mouth, her lips uttering a strangled "shhh."

"My mind, Malfoy, my mind, my thoughts, my dreams! I haven't been able to get you out of my head! No matter what I do or where I go, you're there, or something will remind me of what we did! And what was all that in the bar? And the note?"

He grabbed her wrist again and slowly prised her fingers away from his mouth. He didn't let go of her though, instead he held on, the pad of his thumb tracing circles over her pulse point. He felt it racing under the surface of her skin.

"I thought it was pretty damn obvious what they were about." His voice was a deep yet clear whisper that made Hermione's head swim.

When she didn't say anything, he leant closer to her and ran his nose along the underside of her jaw. She tilted her head subconsciously away from him, giving him greater access to her throat. She smelt just as he remembered and it made his stomach flip over in excitement.

"I meant every…single…word." He staggered his words, hearing her gasp in anticipation.

He let go of her arm and took a stride backwards, eyes never leaving her face. She looked drunk. Lost in her own thoughts, eyes closed in an attempt to block out the sensations and emotions coursing through her body. He took the opportunity to admire the witch in front of him. She wore a floaty blue blouse and a pair of tight, black Muggle jeans that gave her appearance a casual look. Her feet were encased in a pair of black Chelsea boots, and a chequered scarf lay draped around her neck for warmth.

He was partially glad he was wearing his robes as they hid his raging hard on that had appeared as soon as he got close to her again. He didn't want her to know just how much she affected him; he needed to appear in control. At least for now.

"I told you the other day, you haven't left my thoughts Granger, no matter how hard I've tried. I know I shouldn't want you, but you always did have a way of getting under my skin." His voice was filled with lust, staring at her as she bit her bottom lip in response to his words.

He continued, stepping agonisingly slowly towards her.

"You have only the briefest idea of what I want to do to you, of how I can make you feel. I want you against this wall, right now. I want your legs around my waist. I want to kiss your neck till you moan. I want to suck on your perfect tits while you beg me to bite your nipples."

He was right in front of her now and he wasn't sure how she wasn't hyperventilating. She sensed his presence and put her hands on his chest, eyes still clamped tight shut, letting his words travel straight down to her pussy.

He moved his lips excruciatingly close to hers, his words a whisper over her mouth.

"I want to kiss you, slowly, my tongue trailing all the way down here."

His hands mirrored his words, a finger travelling lazily down her torso, stopping at the waistband of her jeans.

"I want to get on my hands and knees right now and rip these fucking jeans off you Granger. I want to lick your pussy so slowly that you beg me to go faster, harder."

His hand slipped inside her panties and trailed leisurely over her lips. They were wet with her want for him and she gasped, finally opening her eyes and staring at him with such a heat he was surprised he didn't catch fire. Her hands went around his neck, as if she was trying to stop herself from collapsing at his feet and she moaned quietly.

"I want to stick my tongue right here and taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet." He teased her entrance, not quite entering her but coating his finger in her juices. She tried to grind into his hand, desperate for him to venture inside, but he pulled away from her opening and instead found her clit. She pushed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and groaning at the added sensation.

"I want to lick just here. I want to lap hungrily at you before sucking your little clit into my mouth. I want to hear you moan as you fuck my face. I'd hold your hips down so you couldn't escape from the pleasure." His fingers circled her clit, spreading her juices all over the small nub. She bucked into his hand, her arms tightening around his neck. With his spare hand, he gently pulled her face from his chest and tilted her chin up so they were looking at each other again.

"I want to watch as you slowly lose control, I want to hear you moan, and gasp and beg me to fuck you." As he spoke so agonisingly slowly, Hermione did indeed gasp. She seemed surprised by her sudden outburst as she returned to biting her lip in an attempt to control her moaning. Draco took her lip from her teeth with his own, biting down on it gently and she arched her chest into him. He smirked and sucked her lip, turning it into a deep, heated kiss. She moaned freely now into his mouth, his fingers never ceasing their constant circling, rubbing and toying. His fingers occasionally dipped lower to her entrance, barely moving, just resting at the entrance and never entering her. It was driving her crazy and he knew it.

"Eurggghhhh Malfoy… Malfoy…please…." She muttered in a breathy whisper against him.

"What is it you want, Granger?" He moved to her neck, kissing it passionately as she tilted her head back in a moan.

"Make me come. Please, I need to come."

He could tell from her muffled moaning that every time he parted her lips and pushed his finger ever so slightly into her that she was desperate for him to thrust himself fully into her. It was for precisely that reason that he pooled all his self-restraint and travelled back to her clit, rubbing it faster with his expert fingers.

With a quick nip at her chin, he whispered "I want to fuck you so hard that you get wet thinking about it, sitting at your little office desk the next day."

It was her undoing. Her breathing halted for the briefest of moments, her body stiffening against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Just as she gave in and fell into her trembling orgasm, he used his spare arm to hold her up against him, while his fingers finally dived deep inside her.

She nearly screamed and he slammed his mouth onto her, capturing her moan and muffling the noise from passers by.

When he felt her regain her composure, he carefully let go of her and withdrew his hand from her knickers. Staring her straight in the eye, he rubbed his wet fingers over her plump bottom lip. He was unsure how she would react, but his cock nearly broke free from his pants when she grabbed his wrist and licked his digits tentatively. Continuing her impenetrable glare, she sucked his fingers deep into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them and moaned gently as she tasted herself. The vibrations travelled through him and grabbed his balls.

He removed his fingers from her warm mouth and leant close to her ear again.

"Does that clear things up for you, Granger?"

She smirked herself this time and pulled him around to kiss him. The taste of her arousal lingered on her tongue, allowing Draco to finally get a hint of her flavour.

His hands held onto her face as he deepened the kiss, their breathing becoming more and more haphazard as they lost themselves in each other. She eventually pulled her mouth away from his.

"This is so wrong. We shouldn't be doing this…" but her hands betrayed her words and travelled to his waist, holding him still.

He rested his forehead against hers, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"You fucking loved it."

When she sighed and didn't reply, he swallowed and asked, nervous as to her answer.

"Do you want to stop?"

She still didn't answer, but her hands moved from his waist, down past his belt and across to his painfully prominent erection. He inhaled sharply through his teeth as her hands grasped him through the fabric of his trousers.

"Does this clear things up for you?" She replayed his own words to him, smiling at the look of concentration on his face.

His heart hammered against his chest. Was this really happening? He knew he wanted her, but he couldn't deny it was refreshing to see she appeared to want him just as much.

Images of Astoria appeared in his mind, but they were quickly whitewashed away as Granger reached for the buckle of his belt.

This was what he wanted, what he needed. Someone to keep him on his toes, keep him guessing, not just a piece of arm candy that made decisions about his life without consulting him.

He knew she was married to Weasley, but it was obviously not the wedded bliss the rest of the Wizarding World expected of the Golden Pair. Her body was so responsive to his movements and to his words; he wondered how long it had been since Weasley had made her feel like that.

He knew in his heart that he didn't want to be trapped in a marriage like that, yet he saw no way out of it. It had been expected of him for over 20 years, could he really stand up to Astoria, to her parents, to _his_ parents, and tell them that he didn't want to marry her?

Of course he'd messed around with other girls in Hogwarts, but he was a teenager, that's what they did. But since he'd gotten engaged, he'd been completely faithful. Well, up until recently anyway.

He was set to marry her and that's all there was to it. There were traditions to be upheld and honours to keep.

Fuck.

He had to keep up appearances but it would be bloody difficult knowing the object of his desires was going home to lie next to Weaselbee every night while he lay alone in his bed at Hogwarts.

He pulled away from her grasp and moved to kiss her instead, rubbing out the look of confusion on her face.

"Not here, not now." He whispered between kisses.

"I have to get the bloody kids back to Hogwarts or McGonagall will string me up by the balls. If you want this Granger, if you truly want this, come to my chambers tonight. I'll tell McGonagall you have another meeting with Copplestone, my floo will be open from 7pm. If this is really what you want, I'll be waiting."

She sighed in a mixture of frustration and longing, the ache between her legs was growing, desperate for him to fill her.

"I don't know if I can. I'm babysitting for Ginny and Harry tonight. That's why I'm in Hogsmede, I'm heading to Tomes and Scrolls for a book for baby James." She kept her hands entangled around his neck, eyes searching his face.

Draco scrunched up his face in mock horror, "Is the Wizarding world really ready for Potter's offspring?"

Hermione laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm. "That's my godson you're talking about Malfoy."

He held up his hands in defeat. "Can't you slip Potter one of those puking pastilles from your husband's shop so they cancel their night out?"

Hermione paled slightly at the mention of Ron, so Draco approached her again and kissed her gently on the lips, hands resting on her cheeks.

"The offer still stands Granger." He rubbed his nose along hers. "Now, you leave first, go back to your shopping. Your shop is in the opposite direction to where I'm meeting the students. I'll leave here in 5 minutes. No one will suspect anything."

He gave her the once over to check her appearance was as neat as when she entered the lane.

"You sound like you've done this before Malfoy." She watched as he tucked his shirt back into his trousers and tightened his belt.

"I'm a Slytherin, Granger. It's in our nature to sneak around dark alleyways." He straightened himself up and looked at the slight disappointment on her face.

"But, you're the only woman I've been slipping into dark corners with. Believe it or not, I don't make a habit of this. Now go, quick. Remember, if this is what you want, I'll be there, waiting." He gave her a parting kiss and pushed her around from the back of the shop.

"I'll do my best. You know me, I don't like to leave a job unfinished." She smirked back at him and walked as casually as she could out of the alley.

"Thank Merlin for your attentiveness, Granger." He rubbed his hand over the slight stubble on his chin and turned his mind to think of all the cauldrons he had to clean when he got back to school, anything to get rid of the raging hard-on trapped in his trousers.

* * *

 **"I think that one of these days…you're going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you've got to start going there." J.D. Salinger**


	10. Chapter 10

I enjoy writing a bossy Hermione, she's such a strong female character and I look forward to exploring her authoritarian side in future chapters. It's not often we'll see a fairly submissive Draco, but let's face it, who wouldn't mind being bossed around by Draco once in a while? ;)

Lemons await, although I'm sure most of you know that by now.

Thanks again for all the pm's, reviews and follows. I'm blown away by how many people are reading and enjoying my little story!

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

"What time are you leaving?" Ron was sat in their living room, his broomstick on the coffee table and the servicing kit placed alongside him on the sofa.

"7. Aren't you coming now or something?" Hermione was in their bedroom, sat at her dressing table and attempting to train her hair into some sort of order. She kept catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror and blushing with a mixture of guilt and excitement.

Their first time she could almost, _almost_ convince herself was an accident. Brought on by a mixture of the hostility from their youth that had merged itself into carnal desire, and the desperately lonely existence she was currently experiencing with Ron.

This afternoon however, she knew she could have stopped it. She could have walked away, she could have removed his hand, and she could have refrained from kissing him back. Merlin, he'd even asked her if she wanted to stop, and she hadn't said yes. Instead she'd nearly begged him, she'd held onto him and allowed her hands to wander. And here she was, preparing herself to meet him again while her husband sat in the next room; preening herself for the man who wanted to do naughty things to her body.

Adding perfume to her wrists and neck, she stood and straightened her blouse. She was wearing the same clothes as before. She didn't want him to think she'd made a special effort for him. It would inflate his already enormous ego. She took a final look in the mirror just before she left. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Her stomach tangled when she walked into the living room, looking at Ron on the sofa. When had it all started to go wrong? In hindsight she knew they had probably rushed into the wedding, but the war had affected them all. It seemed right to grab hold of your happiness and do all you could to ensure it was never taken from you, especially after witnessing so much heartache. Her mind slipped over the memories of all the people they had lost; Fred, Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin and Tonks to name just a few. She loved Ron dearly, but they hadn't spent enough time getting to know each other as girlfriend and boyfriend. Sure they were friends; they were best friends, but taking the next step to forming a relationship takes time, exploration and patience, and she couldn't hep but think they'd rushed it.

"I thought I'd just hang around here. James will be in bed, you won't really need me there will you?" Ron finally replied when he noticed she'd entered the room.

"He's your Godson Ron, when was the last time you saw him? Or Harry? Or your sister for that matter?" Hermione placed the back onto her earing as she answered him back.

Ron sighed.

"Well you're babysitting. The whole point of that scenario is that you're looking after the child. Harry and Gin won't be there, and James will be in bed. It'll just be us two and you don't really need me there with you to sit in a house."

"Gods forbid you'd have to spend an evening with your wife Ronald Weasley."

"Why'd you have to be so snappy all the time?" He threw the waxing cloth he'd been using down on the table and huffed, folding his arms.

"Ron, I can't physically remember the last time we spent more than an hour in each other's presence, let alone doing it without arguing. When did we last go out for the day? Or…or when did you last hold my hand? Or…I don't know…had sex? When was the last time we had sex Ron?"

She saw the backs of his ears blush, spreading over to his cheeks as she walked to stand at the end of the sofa.

"Merlin, Hermione!" He was embarrassed, and this just infuriated her more.

"What Ron? We're a young married couple. We're meant to have sex! We're meant to make love, shag, fuck! We're meant to do it against every surface and in every room we have!" She knew she was making him more uncomfortable, but she was getting mad. She raised her arms at him in indignation while he remained stony-faced.

"We're both busy Hermione! We get up, we go to work, we come home, and we get tired! Life gets in the way! You work long hours. I have business meetings. I'm sorry if I don't have the sexual appetite of an 18 year old anymore! "

Hermione stared at him, a look of sadness on her face.

"What's happening to us Ron?" Her voice was quieter this time.

Ron stood up to meet her gaze, each at one end of the sofa, a clear distance between them.

In an exasperated voice, he answered, "We're arguing Hermione. It's what we do. It's what we've always done. You say something snarky, and I say something stupid in return and you get angry with me and we argue about it. Then we forget about it and do the whole god-dammed thing again a few hours later. Listen, I'm sorry we're busy. I'm sorry we both have jobs that require us to work long hours, I'm sorry you get pissed off that I go to Quidditch matches without you or can't meet you for lunch. I'm sorry that I can't drop everything to suddenly spend time with you when you demand…. I'm busy alright Hermione, I'm busy!" He picked up his broomstick again and smoothed his fingers down the glossy handle. It was an action to keep his hands busy and distract him from the tension.

"Busy doing what Ron? Polishing your fucking broomstick?"  
She pulled on her shoes, trying and failing to tie the laces due to her frustration at him. Instead, she reached for her wand in her back pocket and magicked them into a knot. She turned her back on him and reached for some Floo powder off their fireplace. The clock above it showed 7:12pm.

"Listen, I'll try to pop over later, okay?" She turned as he spoke, looking at him hopefully.

"I just have to finish waxing the handle, pruning some of the twigs at the end and…"

"You know what? Don't fucking bother Ronald. I'll send them your love, at least someone will be getting it tonight."  
She interrupted him, the hope in her eyes extinguished and replaced again with annoyance. She turned once more towards the fireplace, threw the powder inside and stepped into the tickling flames.

* * *

"I didn't think you'd turn up." Draco was sat at the desk in his private chambers, his feet on the desk in a tranquil pose. In truth, Draco was anything but relaxed. He'd been counting down the minutes till his Floo would be open, and knowing how punctual Granger was, he was beyond anxious when 7pm came and went.

She stepped out of his fireplace and found where the voice had come from.

"I can just as easily leave again!" She snapped at him, instantly regretting her tone when she saw his face momentarily fall; only to be replaced with his trademark smirk. He rose from his chair, hands in his trouser pockets and strolled over to her.

"My, my, Granger, what's eating you?"

She caught onto his double entendre and hid her own smirk as she dropped her head.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I'm just a bit…nothing. Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"I'm sure I told you before, don't apologise to me, it doesn't sound right coming from your mouth. Especially not preceding my name."

He was stood within reaching distance to her now and she looked up.

It was the first time she'd seen him without his robes on. His frame was thickset and tall. His broad shoulders and slim waste made his shirt fit him like it was designed specifically for his body. (When she remembered whom it was she was ogling, she thought it probably had been). The sleeve of his right arm was rolled up his forearm, but his left remained cuffed at his wrist, as though he was partway through getting dressed. His grey trousers were fitted snugly yet smartly and she only regretted she couldn't see his arse from this angle.

She recalled the way his body had felt under her hands and finally getting to have a proper look at him made her stomach flip over.

"I…I don't have long. I have to be at Harry's in 15 min…"

She was stopped mid sentence when his lips suddenly crashed against her own, her head in his hands. Her fingers tucked themselves into his belt loops and puled his crotch closer to her body. She felt the tension from her argument slowly melt away as she kissed him. He pulled away briefly from her mouth, and latched himself onto the side of her neck, back to that spot under her ear that made her moan last time.

"I can make you cum in five."

She audibly whimpered and ground herself into the hardness appearing in his trousers, before pushing him away and looking at him through lust filled eyes.

He was panting slightly, still smirking, "You're lucky. I actually managed to soundproof the room this time Granger. You can moan as loud as you want, no sound's going to get through my spell-work."

"Bit presumptive of you Malfoy." She stepped closer to him, and he took a timid step backwards towards the bed, reaching out for her hands to drag her back with him.

"Who said you're going to make me moan?"

"Believe me Granger, when I'm done with you, you'll be _screaming_ my name."

His legs hit the edge of his bed and he sat down, drawing her into the gap between his knees. His hands found the front of her jeans and began to undo the button, but they were quickly slapped away.

"I think you'll find Malfoy, the only one who will be moaning tonight is you."

She leant forwards and kissed him hard, one hand holding his jaw as her tongue fought a strong and fierce battle against his. Her other hand found the top button of his creamy shirt and slipped it through its loop. She continued down his torso till his chest was clear for her to see. She pulled her lips away from him and ran her hands over his taught upper-body. Ginny had definitely been right; Quidditch had kept Draco in fine condition; nicely toned and lean.

"For once, I'm quite enjoying your bossy side, witch, but I'll warn you now, I'm not a moaner."

He smirked as she moved her hands to his shoulders and made to slip the clothing down off his body, yet he stopped her from removing it completely when it got to his elbows.

She thought this odd, but he distracted her by running his hands from her slim waist to down over her arse and he squeezed her firm behind.

Before she lost her nerve, Hermione sunk to her knees in front of him and moved her hands up his taught thighs. He gulped.  
The first visible sign of the crack in his cool façade made her feel powerful, adding to her arousal and confidence.

Leaning up, she trailed feather light kisses over his chest and abdomen, feeling the tense muscles underneath. His hands worried the blanket on his bed as he obviously tried to keep his composure.

Finding the thin patch of surprisingly dark hair that disappeared into his trousers, Hermione slowly licked up to his belly button and she heard a slight groan from the man beneath her. She grinned up at him as her hands lingered on the clear bulge in his trousers.

Squeezing gently with her fingers, Hermione spoke quietly up to him, "Oh you'll moan alright Malfoy. When I set my mind to something I do everything in my power to make sure it gets done."

She unhooked the button of his trousers and slowly pulled down the zip to release his hard cock. It was still trapped in his black boxers, which had tented to accommodate his growth. She ghosted a warm breath over the lump and saw it twitch in excitement.

He lifted his hips to help her pull down the waistband of his boxers. She pulled the tangle of clothing to the floor and was finally greeted with the rock hard cock of Draco Malfoy. He was fairly large, slightly bigger than Ron, but Draco had a thickness that she had been lacking in her married life. She recalled how amazing he had felt when he was inside her and moaned as she gently curled her fingers around the base of his cock. She felt his whole body stiffen as he held his breath in anticipation of her next move.

Sitting forward on her knees, she smirked as she caught his eye and slowly extended her warm, wet tongue up the underside of his dick. When she reached the head, she swirled her tongue around its ridge and agonisingly slowly up the slit.

"Dammit Granger…" He gasped, one of his hands gripping onto hers, which was resting on his thigh.

Feeling a sense of courage from his vocalisation, she finally closed her lips around his head and continued to swirl her tongue around its tip. She moved her head down slowly, till he was fairly deep in her mouth then moved back up, the suction just enough to make him relax slightly. She continued her actions, moving up and down his cock, occasionally twisting her head to get a different angle. She was working him further back into her throat and he was obviously enjoying himself as his breathing became deeper and slower. She released him from her mouth with a wet 'pop' and gave his slit a teasing flick again. She closed her small hands around him and pumped his cock, moving her mouth to focus on his balls. She licked up the seam before carefully sucking one into her mouth.

He thrust upwards slightly as she continued and she was certain a small gasp left his lips.

She moved to the other ball, her thumb catching the small drop of precum at the head of his dick and she rubbed it around the tip.

"Good God's Granger. Is there anything your little mouth isn't skilled at?" He hissed down at her, the pleasure was almost disorientating.

His hand moved to cup her cheek as she let go of his balls and carried on pumping his hard erection. She palmed the head that was wet from a mixture of her mouth and his pre-cum. The fire in his eyes glistened as he was slowly losing the battle of wills against the witch in his lap.

"And to think of all the times I heard you complain about the things that came out of my mouth back in school. It used to give you hell."

She lapped again at his head before taking him fully inside her mouth again, right down into her throat.

"Euuuuurrrhhhh fuck."

Hermione held her breath as she lowered her head further, feeling him move down the hollow of her throat. She heard a garble of gasps and moans coming from the man beneath her as he enjoyed the tightness of her throat. Exhaling, she pulled him clear of her throat but closed her lips on him again and moved her head up and down his shaft. Her hands gently massaged his balls and she continued to listen to him lose control.

"Granger…Granger….I'm getting close….Fuck….You're going to have to stop…."

His hand had worked its way onto her head, not forcing her down, but gently resting in her curls as if guiding her. Not that she needed much assistance. He couldn't remember the last time a witch had taken him so deep. Her mouth was so wet and warm and the little ministrations she kept doing with her tongue were getting him closer to his orgasm.

Hermione did anything but stop. She started to move her head slightly faster, one hand pumping the base of his cock and the other still toying with his balls. His groans and gasps were sending shockwaves of arousal to her pussy, soaking her knickers. She moaned around him in return and the vibrations added a new sensation that he wasn't prepared for. His balls tightened in her grasp and she sucked on his tip, her hand continuing to move up and down his hardness.

"UnnggghhhFuckGranger!"

His words were a garbled moan as he came in her mouth; thick shots of cum coating her tongue as she gently sucked him through his orgasm. Her eyes never left his face as she watched him, fighting to keep his eyes trained on her brown orbs. When the last load of cum had spurted from him, she removed her mouth, sat up higher on her knees and swallowed her mouthful. He tasted bitterly sweet, and she knew it was a flavour she wouldn't mind sampling again and again.

"Merlin's balls Granger…that was…" He couldn't find the words that would sum up how that had felt, so instead he grabbed her face and kissed her passionately. He tasted himself on her but he was so turned on that he didn't care. She moaned into his mouth and he lay backwards on the bed, dragging her with him.

"Does my mouth still cause you bother, Malfoy?" She grinned into the kiss, rubbing her clit into his leg to ease some of the pressure she was feeling.

"Damn right it does. Although this time instead of it spilling facts at me, it's giving me the best fucking blowjob I've ever had in my life. I have a feeling it's going to get me into a lot of bother."

They continued their kissing session on his bed, their hands wandering lavishly over each other. He moved his hands back into her knickers and ran a finger through her wet pussy lips.

"Speaking of being in a lot of bother, I've got to go."

His hand stilled at her words and he sighed. She raised herself up on her elbows and looked down at the man beneath her. It took all her Gryffindor spirit to put an end to their fun. Her hunger for him was sure to burn a hole in her stomach and her pussy. Yet if they wanted to continue seeing each other secretly, they needed to be careful and stick to their words.

"I told Harry and Ginny I'd be there for half 7. If I don't go now they'll get suspicious and they might contact Ron…." She climbed off him and buttoned up her jeans, watching as Draco sat up and leant backwards on his hands.

Merlin she wanted to ravish him. The way his shirt hung lazily off his body, still covering his forearms; his muscular thighs resting on his sheets with his trousers at his ankles.

"I want you to touch yourself later."

"What?"  
She was sure she had misheard him; his words were low and soft yet she knew her pussy had heard him clearly.

"I want you to touch yourself later. I want you to finger that tight little pussy of yours and imagine all the dirty things I want to do to you next time. Can you do that for me Granger?" His calm and collected demeanour was back. He spoke like he was giving instructions to his class, yet his voice held a salacious tone just for her. He stared directly into her eyes as he stood up, pulled up his trousers and approached her slowly.

Hermione swallowed.

"I want you to imagine my tongue flicking your perfect little clit. My fingers rubbing that sweet spot right deep inside you…"

"Stop!" It was a breathy request and she placed her hands on his naked chest to halt him.

"That's your homework Granger. You need to go home and touch yourself whilst thinking of me. And I want you to owl me to tell me how you are progressing with your assignment. I know you'll do it because you're a good girl aren't you? I know how much you love homework." He kissed her collarbone and she whimpered.

"Yes…" She whispered her reply.

"Yes what?"

She cottoned on quickly.

"Yes, Sir."

He smirked against her then released her.  
"Go on then Granger, Potter and the female Weasley will be waiting for you. I eagerly await your owl."

She looked entirely flustered and aroused. Stepping towards his fireplace, she took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the flames. Before she stepped into the fireplace, she turned and said, "It'll be on your desk first thing Monday morning."

With a flirtatious grin, she took a step forward and disappeared from his chambers.

* * *

 **"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful."  
Oscar Wilde**


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry this chapter has been a long time coming, I've been away to London for the weekend and then this week I've been in bed sick. Only really been up to writing the last few days so I apologise for the delay. I'm now better and ready to get back into writing this naughty yet thrilling affair. Just a quickie this time but much more excitement to come :)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The strong metallic aroma of blood filled the large classroom as Draco addressed his third year students, watching as they crushed rat spleens in a mortar.

"It's important you grind them down until they become a thick paste. If there are any lumps then the potion will curdle and become sticky and you'll be spending your evenings down here with me whilst you scrub them out."

A few of the girls put their heads together and giggled, whispering about how they wouldn't mind spending their evening with their potions professor. He continued to pace the classroom, looking into each cauldron and offering comments or advice as he passed. He returned to the front of the class and waved his wand wordlessly towards the blackboard, the continuation of the directions for the 'Shrinking Solution' materialised upon it.

"You'll find the rest of the instructions up here. The storeroom is unlocked and you will find the caterpillars and daisy roots on the fourth shelf up. Please do try not to set fire to anyone or anything as I have a hell of a lot of marking to do and having to disrupt that to extinguish one of you would really inconvenience me."

There was a tittering of nervous laughter as stools scraped the stone floor when the students gradually started to move to collect their ingredients. Draco smoothed his robes out underneath him as he sat down and pulled the large pile of scrolls towards him. It was his last lesson of the day and he'd so far successfully avoided all his paperwork, yet his third years were fairly capable of brewing this solution without much harm coming to his classroom or them.

He set about unrolling the first piece of parchment and let the words soak into his brain, using his quill to underline, circle and annotate the scrawl.

Although he always got good grades at school, Draco could never say he overly enjoyed writing essays. However since he had become a member of teaching staff, he realised that marking them was far worse than writing them. At least as a student he only had to write the damned thing once. As a teacher, he had to read assignment after assignment all covering a relatively similar issue and it was mind numbingly dull.

The next scroll was, surprisingly, from Astoria. As he loosened it, seven samples of material fell from within it.

 **" _Owl me back with your favourite. It's for the tablecloths._**

 ** _I love you,_**

 ** _Yours always,_**

 ** _Astoria"_**

Draco placed the paper to one side and analysed the lace that had fallen from the paper. They all looked exactly the same to him. All white, all girly, all…lacey. Was he seriously meant to spot the difference between them? Would anyone, other than Astoria, spot the difference between them? He sighed, knowing his Mother could probably spot the differences a mile off.

They would all be expensive, Astoria would have nothing but the best so he didn't see why she bothered asking his opinion. They'd only be getting covered in food and drink anyway, so why the tablecloths needed to be made out of handcrafted expensive lace was beyond him.

He threw the samples of material on top of the letter from Astoria and pulled another essay towards him. He'd reply later.

Taking a sip of his magically heated coffee, he suddenly choked and coughed into the brew, spraying it all over his desk and parchments. He raised his palm to a few students and muttered, "Fine…I'm fine!" as they looked at him in confusion. He cleaned himself up with his wand, picked up the parchment (which was clearly not an essay about the properties of Moonstone and its uses in potion making) and read it, an unnatural blush appearing on his pale cheeks.

 **" _Professor Malfoy,_**

 ** _I haven't been able to think of anything else but you all weekend. It was a good job that James was asleep when I got to Harry and Ginny's as I wasn't really in the right frame of mind to be babysitting. I found my hands wandering into my knickers a few times during the evening, thinking of all the things I want you to do to me. I was so close to coming when they both arrived back home. I spent the rest of the evening chatting to them with soaking wet knickers._**

 ** _I had a hot bath on Saturday morning and used the faucet from the shower on my clit. It left one of my hands free to play with my nipples. I imagined it was your mouth, sucking and nipping at them, but I know your mouth will feel better._**

 ** _After I'd played with my tits for a few minutes, I used my fingers to fuck myself. I can't quite reach that area inside me that you can, the one that makes me scream in pleasure. You'll have to give me another private lesson, Sir.  
My fingers didn't feel anywhere near as good as your cock, but I pumped them into me as fast and as deep as I could, imagining how deep your hard cock would feel. With the thought of you thrusting into me and the added stimulation from the water faucet, I was moaning so loud that I thought Ron might have heard. _**

**_On Saturday night I dreamt of you fucking me in your classroom. I know it'll never happen, but the thought of me bent over your desk while you're spanking me and thrusting deep inside me had me coming in my sleep. Merlin, even the thought now gets me wet. You were right about that. I'm sat at my desk at work now just thinking about shagging you, how I want you to fill me, how you'll look when you cum all over my tits. These knickers will be ruined if I carry on._**

 ** _I don't know how we can, but I have to see you again soon. If the rumours from our school days are true, there's a lot I still have to experience about Draco Malfoy's dick._**

 ** _I hope my homework meets your exacting standards, Professor._**

 **HGW"**

Merlin's balls.

Draco shifted uncomfortably behind his desk, his trousers having become suddenly tight at the thought of Granger touching herself over him. Who'd have thought she'd fancy a spanking! How very Slytherin of her. He wondered what else she might enjoy that he'd yet to discover. And, what had she heard about him? It was a good job he'd caught her letter early on and hadn't passed it back to some poor, unassuming student in a half arsed marking job.

"Sir?" A voice rose out over the hubbub of the classroom, yet Draco was busy searching his desk for a piece of parchment to write back to her.

 **" _Granger,_**

 ** _I'm sat trying to get some knowledge hungry teenagers to brew their potions correctly without exploding my classroom, when I'm suddenly greeted by a cock-hungry witch instead. I know which one I'd prefer to be with right now…"_**

"Professor!" The voice was a bit more insistent, but Draco was still engrossed in his reply.

 **"... _I never took you as someone who liked to be spanked. You were always such a swot that I thought you'd feed off the praise, not the discipline. I can certainly spank you, hells, I'd love to spank your fabulous arse. I can't look at my desk anymore without the thought of you bent over it, your tits pressed against the solid wood and that tight skirt of yours pushed up over your hips. You'll be begging me to spank you harder. I might reward you with my cock, but you'll have to wait and see…"_**

"Sir, I really think…."

 **"... _We'll have to sort something out soon. I can't go too long without being buried deep inside you again. I've got a taste for you now, Granger. The thought of you touching yourself with your husband just outside the door gets me so fucking hard. I knew there was a bad girl deep down inside. In the mean time, when you get home I want you to put a pillow between your legs and ride it until you're really close, but don't you dare cum. I want you to get on your back and finger yourself with 3 fingers. Taste yourself. Do you taste as sweet as I imagine you to? I can't wait to taste your pussy properly. Use your other hand to play with your tits. Squeeze your nipples and roll them between your fingers till they're rock hard whilst still fingering your tight, wet little…"_**

 **BOOM!**

Draco slammed his hands on his desk, causing his and Granger's open scrolls to roll up in response to the vibrations. Pulling his robes around him to hide his erection, he scanned the classroom for the signs of the disturbance. The room was silent, apart from the soft hiss of the flames beneath cauldrons, and a slow drip coming from the side of the room. Two students stood covered in a fluorescent yellow sludge, small angry boils slowly emerging on their exposed skin.

"And just how many times did you stir your potion anti-clockwise after adding the leech juice, Henshall?" His voice was an irate whisper that would rival even Severus Snape.

Everyone's eyes were darting between their Professor and the student concerned. Unfortunately for the pupil working next to Henshall, they had also been covered in the mixture.

"Erm…fi…five sir." He replied nervously.

"Five? May I ask why, when the instructions on the board clearly state to stir _six_ times anti-clockwise?"

"I…I…"

Draco sighed in agitation, rubbing his hands down his face.

"I was unaware that I was also supposed to be teaching you to read. I suggest you take yourselves off to the hospital wing. Your homework will be to write me the _correct_ way to brew a shrinking solution and the side effects of not getting it correct. Everyone else, pack up, I think we've had enough excitement for the day."

He fingered the collar of his Oxford shirt as his pupils noisily packed away their belongings, giggling at the sight of their two unfortunate classmates. Heading back towards his desk, he waved his wand to clear up the resulting mess of cauldrons and ingredients. There was a knock at his door and he replied, "enter" without looking around.

"Still sending kids off to the hospital wing then, Malfoy?"

Draco turned at the sound of his old school rival entering his classroom.

"Funny Potter. Almost as funny as the invitation I received from you to visit my classroom. Oh wait. I didn't receive one. To what, may I ask, do I owe the pleasure of having the Chosen One visit my humble abode?"

Draco sat again at his desk, gathering his and Granger's letters together and putting them in the top draw.

Hands in his pockets, Harry smiled as he approached, perching himself on the front desk nearest to Draco, crossing his ankles.

"You could have saved them the embarrassment of walking through the halls like that and given them the antidote yourself."

"True. But, where would the fun in that be? They have to learn not to blow up simple potions and what better way to learn than to have the humiliation of fucking it up in their memories. I bet no one in this class will forget how to correctly brew that potion again."

"Been taking notes from your Godfather I see." Harry rubbed one hand through his already messy black hair, as Draco leant back in his chair.

"How's wedding prep going?" Harry nodded his head towards the fabric on Draco's desk, causing him to scoff and pull the samples close to him.

"You should know the joys of planning a pureblood wedding, Potter, what with marring into the Weasleys. Although I assume mine will be a lot more lavish than yours. Now, you weren't here to chat weddings and I'm not one for small talk, so what is it you want?"

"Oh, you know…in the area…visiting Neville and McGonagall…"

"Potter."

"Merlin Malfoy, just trying to lighten the mood. Listen, about your wedding. As you know, I have to send someone from my department to your parent's manor every week to check for any signs of foul play. There are serious threats against your family from ex-death eaters and as you are the sole heir to the Malfoy estate you are the prime target."

"And I can help you do your job how Potter?" Draco sat forward in his chair and began marking essays again as if Harry wasn't there.

"I just wondered if you'd…spoken…to anyone recently?"

"You mean, because my Father forced me to become a death eater, you want to know if I'm still best mates with any of the scum I was obligated to spend time with?

"I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but yes. Your Father is proving difficult to communicate with recently, which is surprising seeing as his only son is at risk."

"You're surprised my father is difficult to deal with? Really? Do you know Lucius Malfoy?" He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise yet continued his marking.

"Malfoy. Have you received any kind of threats or communications from anyone or…any _thing_ recently."

Draco stopped mid sentence and looked Harry directly in the eye.

"If you're insinuating the Dark Mark Potter, then come out and say it."

Harry pushed his glasses further up his nose but looked slightly uncomfortable under Draco's gaze. Sighing, he replied:

"Malfoy, I wouldn't have stood up for you in front of the Wizengamot if I didn't think you'd changed your way of thinking. Yet it can't be denied that you still have the Dark Mark on your arm and I was just enquiring as to whether or not it had troubled you recently. I have to follow up lines of enquiry."

Getting back to his marking, Draco tore his eyes away from Harry before replying, "No. It hasn't twinged since the end of the war. If some of my Father's old friends wished to do me harm, I think I'd have known about it by now. They've had long enough."

"Just let me know if there's anything. Anything at all." Harry fidgeted with an unusual silver pocket watch and made to replace is in the front of his robes.

"What's this Potter, are you showing some form of emotion and caring nature towards a Malfoy? I thought there'd be more chances of the Banchory Bangers winning the league."

"I wouldn't go that far Malfoy, yet unfortunately for me, ensuring you don't die is part of my job. Ask Astoria and her friends; see if she's heard anything. Pop over to the Ministry any time."

The door to Draco's classroom suddenly bust open and Neville Longbottom fell into the dungeon.

"Harry, you're here! Headmistress McGonagall said I might find you down here!"

"Oh sure, pop in unannounced Longbottom, the more the merrier!" Draco stared at his new visitor, causing Neville to flush violently.

Harry stood and shook Neville's hand, revelling in the annoyance of his old nemesis. The pair muttered in hushed voices at the back of the room when Draco suddenly had a thought. If he had to speak to Potter again, he could do it at the Ministry. Surely he could 'accidentally' turn up on the wrong floor, say at the offices of the Deputy Head for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, for example?

This would be perfect.

Draco coughed to disrupt the two intruders in his room. "I hate to trouble you both, but you are actually in _my_ classroom, imparting yourselves on _my_ time, uninvited. Now if you two don't mind, some of us have work to do." He got back to his parchments, dipping his quill in his ink pot.

"Come on Neville, we'll talk upstairs. Draco has fabric to look at." Draco sneered at the pair and Neville looked confused as Harry put his arms around his shoulders and led him out of the dungeon. Just as the heavy wooden door had nearly closed, Draco called Harry back, not taking his eyes off his work.

"Hey, Potter. I'll talk to Astoria and if needs be, I'll "pop over" as you so put it."

"I'll be sure to have biscuits at the ready Malfoy!" Harry smirked as he shut the door behind him, and Draco raised his wand to lock it. He wanted no more visitors this afternoon. Pushing the homework scrolls aside, he reached into his desk draw and pulled out his response to Hermione. He had a letter to finish and had no desire to be interrupted again. If he played this correctly, he could be seeing her a lot sooner than they'd hoped.

* * *

 **"Anticipation…is a mortar to desire. The ability to imagine it, as if it is happening, to experience it as if it is happening, while nothing is happening and everything is happening, at the same time." - Esther Perel**


	12. Chapter 12

Some of your Private Messages make me giggle, I love that you're enjoying reading this little story! I change my mind frequently on which direction I plan on taking this story. Safe to say though, their little secret affair is only just beginning, and there's lots of naughtiness to come.

Thank you all for your messages and reviews, they make my day :)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWELVE**

"You aren't my Mother, Tori. What in Merlin's name possessed you to write to McGonagall? I felt like a fucking third year getting permission to go to Hogsmede for the first time!"

"Oh hush Draco. If I left you to do it then it'd never get done."

Draco and Astoria had floo'd to the ministry during his lunch break. He had written to her about what Potter had asked him during his recent unscheduled visit and Astoria had insisted they go as soon as possible. Under the guise of Astoria having genuine concerns about their safety, Draco had agreed. Unbeknownst to him however, Astoria had written to McGonagall to ask that Draco be excused from the castle over his lunch break the following day to attend the Ministry. He was currently striding through the Atrium with Astoria walking gracefully beside him, exuding all the elegance of her Pureblood upbringing.

"You still didn't need to write to her. I'm a fucking adult, I don't need permission to leave work during my lunch break. I was morified!"

"Not as mortified as you'll feel if you carry on making a scene. Now, Harry Potter asked us to visit him in his office and I for one will not turn down this opportunity to invite him." Astoria muttered angrily under her breath at him, yet smiled outwardly towards passers by so as not to draw attention to themselves. They had got to the lifts and were headed towards the second floor where the Auror Department was located

"He asked me to come in if…what do you mean invite him?"

"Oh Draco, really." Astoria reached into the deep front pockets of her immaculate purple robes and pulled out a small silver envelope with a deep green ribbon.

"The wedding, Draco. We are having the biggest, most important wedding of the year. You may have talked me out of inviting the Minister of Magic himself, but I cannot turn down the opportunity to invite Harry Potter when he so willingly asked us to join him for tea in his offices."

"Astoria, to say me and Potter dislike each other is putting it mildly. We are as compatible as a blast ended skrewt living in a straw house. Why on earth would I want him at the wedding?"

Astoria was two years below Draco at Hogwarts, and although she was aware of their animosity, she wasn't around their drama as much as her elder sister was. She didn't understand how much the pair disliked each other. Sure, he had supported Draco during his trial and he could honestly say that he now had a certain amount of respect for Potter, yet they were certainly not friends. Not that this small inconvenience would put off Astoria.

"Listen. We are working together here to clear your family name. What better way than to extend the olive branch, build bridges and invite the Chosen One?"

"You can't fool me Astoria, this has nothing to do with my family name and everything to do with the fact you want something to boast about when you next meet up with your friends. Astoria and Draco having the fabulous, fantastic and wonderful St. Potter attend their wedding." Draco shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, irritated.

They had arrived at the second floor and were walking through the corridors. When they got to a large wooden desk where a young witch sat, they paused and Astoria linked her arm through Draco's and smiled down at Potter's secretary.

"Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass to see Mr Potter, we received a personal invitation." The secretary scanned her books and on finding no sign of their meeting, disappeared into the door behind her. Astoria continued in her absence, her voice a low whisper, "It won't just be him, I'm inviting all three of them."

"What?" Draco turned to her suddenly, throwing out an arm in exasperation.

"Yes, I'm inviting Weasley and Granger-Weasley as well." Astoria smoothed down her robes as the secretary returned with Harry beside her, effectively ending their conversation.

"Malfoy, what a surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. And this must be Miss Greengrass! How lovely to meet you in person. It appears the Prophet has as much of an infatuation about your life as they unfortunately have on mine." Harry shook hands with Astoria and reached over to Draco. Draco however ignored the offer and replaced his hand in his pocket, replying with a curt nod.

He was greeted with Astoria's elbow in his ribcage.

Clearing his throat, Draco begrudgingly accepted Harry's handshake and ignored the smirk on the recipients face.

"Thank you for inviting us here Mr Potter." Astoria looked around the foyer, basking in the glory of speaking to Harry Potter, although no one took any real notice.

"Not at all, please come in, make yourselves at home." Harry waved them into his office and shut the door behind them. Astoria seated her self elegantly in one of the plush chairs opposite Potter's desk; Draco decided to remain standing.

"I don't have your case notes with me at the moment, but…" Harry began as he moved papers around on his desk, but was quickly interrupted by Draco.

"What? You have a case on us?" Draco rested his hands on the back of Astoria's chair.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at Draco. "As I told you, I am following various potential threats to your life. Both of your lives." His eyes glanced towards Astoria then back to Draco.

"There are many people out there who believe you should have joined your Father in Azkaban, Malfoy. They believe you to be traitors to Voldemort, that your family turned their backs on the Death Eater's. They're angry that your Father, in their words, 'got off lightly'. As one of Voldemort's most trusted aids they believe your Father, and you, as a result of you obtaining the Dark Mark, should have been punished like the rest of them."

Harry continued, raising his voice to get through to Malfoy, who was pacing around the office in annoyance.

"Now, _I_ know your allegiances changed towards the end, and that you were essentially forced into getting the Dark Mark, but that doesn't mean everyone else believes it. The pair of you are having one of the most widely anticipated weddings of the year. Everyone you hold dear to you will be gathered in the same place and you are a huge target. We are monitoring a number of possible plots against you, but I wanted to hear from you both to see if anyone has said anything unusual to you, or passed comment?"

Draco folded his arms and stared down at Harry.

"As I told you yesterday, my Dark Mark hasn't bothered me since the end of the war."

Harry nodded and turned his attention to Astoria. Draco could tell she looked concerned, but to a stranger, Astoria's face remained stoic.

"Of course, on the lower social circles rumours fly that I should marry into a greater family than the Malfoy's. Many believe I deserve to marry into a less corrupt and dark family."

Draco scoffed behind her, but Astoria continued.

"I was brought up with all the typical ideologies of Pureblood supremacy, however during the war I formed my own, more tolerant views on Muggles. Yet Draco and I have been set to marry since we were children, I love him and his family as if they were my own, and very soon they will be. None of my associates have mentioned anything negative to me about our wedding recently though." She crossed her legs beneath her robes and rested her clasped hands in her lap.

Draco remained silent, listening as Potter and Astoria continued their conversation, discussing her friends and associates, who had said what, how and when they had said it.

This is not how Draco had wanted to visit the Ministry. When Potter invited him here, he didn't actually envisage he'd be sat here with his fiancé, in Potter's office talking causally about death threats. His mind wandered to the floors above, wondering what Granger was up to right now, what she was wearing and how he could get 5 minutes alone with her.

His thoughts were disturbed by Astoria and Potter both standing and shaking hands again.

"My Auror's will of course continue with their investigations, and I will look into the information you have provided me with Miss Greengrass."

"Thank you Mr Potter. Before we leave, I was hoping I could pass you this." She reached for the wedding invitation in her robes and pressed it into his hand before he could turn it away. Harry held it in his fingers and glanced at the writing as Astoria spoke.

"Draco and I would be honoured if you and your wife would join us in celebrating our wedding."

Harry's eyes darted straight to Draco's, a look of total incredulation on his face. Draco rolled his eyes in response, hinting that this was totally her idea and he had nothing to do with it.

"That's very…unexpected Miss Greengrass, but thank you. I shall check with Ginny and get back to you."

Astoria looked delighted and nodded her head in polite acknowledgement. She made to leave, Draco and Harry in close pursuit, when she suddenly stopped and gasped, causing Draco to run into her.

"Godric, Astoria!" Draco snapped at her, yet she ignored him.

"Mrs Granger-Weasley works here doesn't she?! We have an invitation here for her and her husband! We could pop in and deliver it ourselves while we're here. What floor is she on?"

Before Harry could answer, Draco interjected in what he hoped was a calm voice "No Astoria, another time. I'm sure she's really busy and I'm running late returning to work. You have a lunch date with Mother this afternoon, we don't have time to visit anyone else. Thanks for your time, Potter."

He ushered Astoria out of the office before either she or Potter could carry on their conversation. She smiled politely back at Harry, allowing Draco to escort her to the lifts.

Once out of earshot from Harry's secretary, Astoria whispered excitedly, "Can you imagine having all three of them at the wedding Draco? The golden trio at _our_ wedding! That'll wipe the smug smile off Millicent Bulstrode's face. Did you know she…"

Draco zoned out of the conversation, closing his ears to Astoria's monotonous gossip.

Finally the lift arrived and the doors opened, revealing only one inhabitant.

"I don't believe it, this is perfect!" Astoria glided into the lift and rested her hands on the forearms of someone already inside. The witch concerned had her arms full of books and appeared stunned at the stranger's embrace.

Draco pulled on his collar in a flustered manner and followed Astoria into the lift.

"Mrs Granger-Weasley! What an honour to meet you at last. We've just had an important meeting with your good friend Mr Potter! Such a charming man."

Hermione glanced quickly at Draco, who stood beside her with his hands clasped behind his back. She flushed and turned her attention back to Astoria.

"Miss Greengrass I presume?"

Astoria's smile grew even wider in response to the recognition and she placed her hand on her chest in gratitude.

"Soon to be Mrs Malfoy." She raised her other hand to show off the glittering diamond that adorned her ring finger. Hermione glanced at it and swallowed, forcing her lips to form a smile.

"How…lovely. Draco is a very lucky man."

"Well you know us women, we deserve the best for putting up with these men of ours!" Astoria beamed at Hermione as the other witch hoisted the books around in her arms.

"Astoria, please. Mrs Granger-Weasley looks rather busy. I'm sure she doesn't have time to be swooning over your jewellery."  
He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. His heart was hammering around in his chest like a snitch caught in a box.

"Oh shush Draco. All women appreciate fine jewellery, I'm sure you were the same when Mr Weasley proposed to you?" Astoria twiddled the ring on her finger and didn't spot Hermione shuffling uncomfortably on her feet.

"Speaking of weddings, may I hand you this? Draco and I would be delighted if you and your husband would join us to celebrate our wedding." Astoria tried to hand Hermione the wedding invitation, but with Hermione's arms full, she settled on inserting it within the pages of the top most book.

"Oh…my goodness. I don't know what to say…"

"Please, just say you'll come. I know Mr Potter was delighted to receive his invite. It's sure to be the event of the year! We'd love it if you could make it, wouldn't we Draco?"

All eyes shifted to the man in the lift, and Draco stared into Hermione's brown eyes.

"I'd be delighted to be in your company."

Hermione swallowed, yet Astoria missed the connotation and instead started prattling on about the wedding as if she and Hermione were old friends.

Hermione listened dutifully, nodding and smiling in all the correct places.  
Draco was feeling hot and was finding it difficult standing so close to Hermione without touching her. Discretely, he slowly reached out and trailed one long finger down the small of her back. The witch stilled, and her breathing stuttered, completely overlooked by Astoria who was lost in wedding talk.  
His fingers moved lower till his palm was gently cupping her arse, his fingers dancing over the tight material.

"This is my floor, I have to drop something off." Hermione interrupted Astoria, and Draco quickly but subtly removed his hand from her body and replaced it behind his back.

"Thank you for the invite, I'll be sure to get back to you when I can." Hermione walked backwards out of the lift as she finished her goodbye's with Astoria. Draco smirked at her behind his fiancé's back as the lift doors closed again.

"Can you believe our luck, Draco?" Astoria grinned up at him, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Yes, if having three people who I spent years hating attend my wedding is considered lucky, then I'm simply surrounded by it."

"You'll thank me on the day when everyone sees they're attending and can't stop talking about it. " She straightened her robes as they drew closer to the ground floor.

"I'm sure I will love, I'm sure I will." Draco ran a hand down the back of his head and looked to the ground. Something shiny caught his eyes and he bent down to pick up. It was a delicate silver necklace with a small "H" hanging from it; it could only belong to Hermione.

"This must have got caught on her books and fallen off." They arrived at the Atrium and Astoria stepped out of the lift, waiting for Draco to join her.

"I'll quickly run it back to her before going back to work."

"Shall I come with you?" She asked hopefully, obviously wanting the opportunity to chat with the famous witch again.

"No, I won't be long. You go and have lunch with Mother. You know what she's like when she's kept waiting. I'll see you soon Tori. Perhaps you can come stay at Hogwarts for a bit next time?" He leant forward and kissed her quickly, holding the doors open with his body.

"You know how I feel about staying in that dungeon Draco. I'll see you in a few weekends time." She caressed his cheek and kissed him again quickly, before walking away through the Atrium.

* * *

Draco eventually got to Hermione's floor, after a rather tedious journey in the lifts that seemed to take him all over the Ministry, except for the one floor he wanted to get to. He spotted that Hermione's assistant was busy being lectured by her arsehole of a colleague, so Draco took the opportunity to slip into her office unnoticed and cast a locking and silencing charm against the door.

Hermione was leaning over her desk, hands on the table and she was breathing deeply. He quietly approached her, wrapping his hands around her waist and kissed the side of her neck.

She knew it was him instantly, his aftershave made her heart do somersaults of excitement. She sighed quietly, turning her head automatically to give him greater access to her neck.

"That wasn't awkward what so ever." She whispered.

"She was too wrapped up talking at you about the fucking wedding to notice anything, Granger." He spoke into her neck, alternating between kissing her and inhaling her scent.

"Yes, thanks for the invite by the way." She said sarcastically, turning around in his grasp so she was facing him whilst leaning against the desk.

"There's nothing I'd want more than to attend the wedding of the man I'm secretly shagging."

Draco moved closer to her so their chests were touching.

"Believe me, this was all Astoria. I've had very little to do with this wedding apart from pay for most of it. I probably don't know half of the people coming. You, Weasley and Potter will be the icing on Astoria's socialite cake."

"Merlin Malfoy, you certainly know how to make a girl feel wanted." She pushed him off her and turned again to her desk, pushing the wedding invitation under a pile of manuscripts on her desk.

"I think you know exactly how much I want you Granger…"

Hermione ran her hands through her curled tresses, pulling on it in agitation.

"Do you know what that felt like Malfoy? Seeing you two together, talking about weddings…"

"Probably exactly the same as it feels for me, knowing you go home to Weasley every single night, while I'm cooped up, alone at Hogwarts."

Draco stared at her back, practically feeling her absorb his words. He approached her quietly, reaching into his pocket to find her necklace. He carefully reached around her neck and placed the jewellery in its rightful place, closing the clasp and kissing it against her neck.

"You dropped this in the lift. I thought I'd continue what I started a few weeks ago by returning the things you seem to leave lying around."

She fingered the small monogram that now rested in the gap between her collarbones.

"One day, Granger, I'll adorn your body in jewels." He whispered into her ear and her breath hitched again at the sensation.

"I don't want your money Malfoy, or your jewels…"

"No, I know exactly what you want Granger." He put his hand between her shoulder blades and gently pushed her forwards, his other hand guiding her hips backwards so she lay flat against her work table, feet anchored to the floor. She gasped when he ground his hard cock against her covered arse, pulling her hips to greet his erection. Out of nowhere, he raised his hand and smacked her firmly on the arse, forcing a deep moan from the witch beneath him. The sound of the slap filled every corner of her office.

"Fancy imagining me spanking you over my desk. What a dirty girl you are Granger. Did you imagine it would feel like this?"

He smacked her again and she groaned in response, arching her back so she could rub herself against him.

"Only naughty girls get a spanking, Granger. I never knew you were a naughty girl. Let's see how much you like me making your arse red." He ran his hands up the front of her thighs, hands skimming over the lacy tops of her stockings. He growled at the feel of them, yet continued higher till he reached her knickers.

"You're soaking Granger." His fingers ran up the front of her knickers, feeling the wet patch that had soaked through the material.

He slipped a finger underneath the fabric and pushed it deep inside her. She bit her lip yet a small moan escaped from her mouth.

"Meet me in Hogsmede this weekend. I'll book a hotel. I finally want to taste this pussy properly." He slowly removed his finger and pushed it in again, making Hermione lose her mind.

"I want to want to fuck you properly, I want to have you in every position imaginable. I'll have you coming so many times you won't know what day it is."

Hermione raised herself up so she was leaning on her hands.

"Mmmm, but they'll recognise us…"

He continued to move his fingers inside her as he spoke, feeling her getting wetter and tighter around his fingers.

"I'll think of something. I'll say I'm meeting you to discuss alternatives to using fucking house elves at the wedding or something."

"Eurgh, fuck…but…" She dropped her head as his thumb grazed her clit. "…but there won't be a bed."

"Does your mind ever switch off, witch?" He chuckled as he rubbed his thumb in circles over her clit. Hermione was mesmerised at how he could cause her so much pleasure with only one hand. She couldn't wait to find out what he could do with his tongue, let alone feel his cock inside her again.

He leant over her back and whispered in her ear.

"Perhaps not, but there'll be a desk, and until I finally get you back into my classroom to act out your little fantasy, it's the best thing I've got to spank you on properly. I quite fancy shagging you against a desk, it seems very fitting, don't you think?"

He smacked her on her arse one last time and pulled away from her. Hermione felt like he'd removed her spine. When she finally found the muscles to turn and face him, she found him with his fingers in his mouth.

"I can't cope with these little tastes of you Granger. I need you. Tell me you'll meet me?"

She reached forward and pulled him towards her using his robes, slamming her lips against his hard. His mouth let her tongue enter straight away; she didn't need to beg for permission this time. Before it got too heated, she stopped kissing him and whispered, "Hermione."

He looked confused. "Come again, Granger?"

She smirked back at him, smacking him gently on the chest.

"Hermione. If you're inviting me to a hotel for a weekend of secret shagging then I think it's time you used my given name."

He smiled. An actual Draco Malfoy smile.

"Hmm, I don't know about that. You've always been Granger to me and now it's become a kind of endearing pet name."

He held her head in his hands and gave her another deep kiss, smiling as she sighed into it. He grabbed her hips and lifted her backwards so she was sitting on her desk.

"I'll owl you then, with the details."

He gave her a final quick kiss on the lips, and walked towards the office door. He waved his wand to remove the charms he'd placed there and turned to face her again.

"Oh, and Granger?"

She sat there flustered on the desk, staring at him.

"Make sure you wear those stockings. I'll be wanking to the thought of you in them all week."

* * *

 **"They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."**

 **F. Scott Fitzgerald**


	13. Chapter 13

Sadly, it's not time for their weekend together just yet, there's some important things to discuss first.

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, bouncing her son on her legs and smiling fondly at him as he gurgled and giggled back at her.

Ron was stood behind her at the window, his eyes searching the dark night sky, flicking between the large spring moon and the hundreds of stars.

"Just seeing if the Merpeople have sprouted wings, left the lakes and taken to the skies." He replied, giving the street below him a final glance before closing the curtains and approaching the back of the sofa where Ginny was sat. He hid behind her head and reappeared suddenly, pulling a funny face that made baby James give a slobbery giggle at his uncle.

Harry threw Draco and Astoria's wedding invitation down on the coffee table between the two sofas and huffed out a laugh. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

"I don't believe this has anything to do with Malfoy. He looked rather embarrassed by the whole situation if I'm honest. He appeared just as surprised as I was."

Ron threw his gangly frame on the sofa next to Harry and crossed his legs on top of the small table.

"So…are you going to go?" Ron looked rather smug and placed his arms behind his head in a relaxed manner, eyes darting between Harry and Ginny.

The couple looked at each other, uncertain of the answer.

"I'm not sure." Harry began. "I mean, I wouldn't usually optionally spend time in Malfoy's presence. And in Malfoy Manor of all places…"

"But Harry is Harry." Ginny interrupted, smirking at her husband. "And ultimately he wants to do the right thing. Attending doesn't mean we're all best friends, but it shows that Harry and Malfoy are adult enough to move on from when they were kids."

Ron looked at them both incredulously.

"Wait, so you're telling me you're actually going to go?"

Harry shrugged and leant back onto the sofa.

"Probably. Only for an hour or so."

"Merlin. Well, I never thought I'd see the day. Still, I bet Malfoy has a pretty impressive Firewhisky collection. Please get drunk sampling it all on my behalf."

"You can sample it yourself Ron, as you'll also be going." Hermione entered the room, levitating four glasses of elf made wine into the room in front of her, each one heading over to its recipient in the room.

"What!?" Ron turned to look at Hermione so quickly that he cricked his neck and swore in response, ignoring his wine glass as it tapped him gently on the hand.

Hermione headed to her cloak that was hung on a hook near the front door, pulled out the invitation and passed it to Ron.

"We're also invited. And you will not be getting drunk and making a scene." Hermione sat next to Ginny and took the child from her so Ginny could have a drink. Ron stared down at the invitation, taking in all the information it provided while his friends tried to hide their laughter.

"But…do you not think it's in bad taste inviting you of all people Hermione? I mean after everything that happened to you at the Manor, does he expect us to just forget about it all?"

In all honesty, Hermione had thought of little else since Draco had left her in the office and she had sat down to actually read the invitation.

 ** _Ceremony to be held in the grounds of Malfoy Manor._**

The same Manor where Draco's crazy Aunt Bellatrix had tortured her in ways she still had nightmares about. The thought of returning there sent a cold chill through her entire body. She had never fully disclosed every detail of what Bellatrix had done to her to her friends.

"I'll never forget what happened to us there. But avoiding the place forever will never help me get over it either. As Dumbledore always said, fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. In this case, fear of a place only increases the fear of the place itself." The baby in Hermione's arms rubbed a chubby fist in his eye, his plump cheeks getting chubbier as he yawned. Hermione smiled down at him.

"Believe me, I'll never be taking a holiday at Malfoy Manor. However I think I can stand to be there for an hour or two. Besides, it's in the grounds, I may not even have to set foot in the Manor itself."

Everyone sat in silence, letting Hermione's words sink in. Then Ron interrupted.

"But…but it's Malfoy! Am I missing something here?" He finally took his wine glass from mid-air, which was starting to slosh alcohol over his trousers, and took a hefty swig.

"Malfoy, who we spent most of our school days hating and who hated us in return. Who revelled in calling you a Mudblood Hermione. Malfoy who nearly killed Dumbledore. Malfoy who let Death Eaters into the castle, Malfoy _the_ Death Eater, whose Father is a Death Eater, whose Aunt nearly killed you, whose family happily housed Voldemort…I could go on! Tell me we aren't seriously considering going to this bastard's wedding as if none of this happened?!"

"He's different now. He's not like he was when he was a teenager…" Hermione began.

"And how in Godric's name do you know?" Ron raised his voice slightly at her, causing the witch to glower back at him.

"We've chatted. When I gave the talk at Hogwarts he was there obviously. And we had a quick chat when he dropped off the invitation."

"So from those few minutes you've deduced that he's a new man? Didn't know you'd joined the Draco Malfoy fan club 'Mione"

Hermione flushed, obviously remembering all the other times she had seen Malfoy, all of which she would definitely not be recounting in front of her husband.

Harry, misinterpreting Hermione's pink cheeks as a response to Ron's tone at her, placed a hand on his friend's shoulder to calm him.

"I hate to say it mate, but she's right. He is different. He's not as…intense. I think he behaved as he did during the war due to fear and pressure from his family. He did what he did to keep them safe, like you would with your family. I probably shouldn't disclose this, but being Head Auror has its perks. I've seen memories and accounts from other Death Eaters and Draco was physically forced to get the Dark Mark. I think he was already starting to have doubts before Dumbledore was killed. Now, I'm not saying he's a saint, he's still a pain in the arse and an arrogant dick, but he's working hard to distance the Malfoy name from it's old connotations. McGonagall only has good things to say about him, and Merlin, the amount he's donated to different charities is eye watering."

Ron looked at them all as if they had gone mad.

"So…I'm meant to just forget everything in the past because Malfoy donated some money to a few good causes and because he's sweet talked McGonagall?"

"No one's asking you to forget, Ron" Ginny stated.

"Do you not think, that given the chance to go back in time, Malfoy wouldn't jump at the chance? To go back to the moment when everything was still possible, before he made those wrong choices, took the wrong turns in the road? But it's not possible is it? All he can do is learn from the past and try and move on. It's what we all have to do Ron. We can't stay locked in the past, we'd never move on with our lives."  
Hermione spoke with such clarity, that once again the room was swallowed in silence, save for the gentle breathing of the now sleeping James.

Ron looked down at his sleeping nephew and sighed, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to try and release some of the tension.

"Well, I'm NEVER going to forget, and I'm never going to forgive him either. However, I want everyone to know that the only reason I'm going is to take full advantage of their liquor stores."

Everyone let out a small laugh, and then began a new conversation discussing the different types of alcohol Malfoy and his family must have accumulated during the years, with Ron betting how much he would get through.

Hermione remained silent, focussing her attention on the sleeping baby. In truth, before this conversation started she hadn't decided whether or not she actually wanted to attend the wedding. She didn't know if she could sit there and watch him marry Astoria. Okay, she knew she didn't love him, but she couldn't deny she had feelings for him, feelings that appeared to be getting stronger. She'd also feel incredibly guilty sitting there as a guest with her husband, knowing she'd been secretly shagging the groom.  
However, after her surprisingly impassioned speech, she could hardly be a hypocrite and turn down the invitation now, after everything she'd just said.

Sighing, Hermione stood and announced to the room that she was putting James to bed. Heading into her bedroom, she placed the sleeping boy on her bed, placing pillows around him to prevent him from toppling off.

Hermione lay next to him, stroking his soft black hair and smiling at how much the boy's hair resembled his Father's. She was quickly joined by Ginny, who lay on the opposite side of her and stared at her friend over the baby.

"So…things still aren't better between you two, are they?"

* * *

"We've grown apart Harry. I didn't want to say it out loud it but we have. All we do is argue."

"All you two have ever done is argue, mate."

"Yeah, but this is different. This is like….arguing, arguing." Ron had his head in his hands while Harry eyed him over.

"How long has it been like that?" Harry enquired.

Ron shrugged, running his hands down his face and pausing when he reached his mouth, sighing into his hands.

"I've erm…I've been seeing a lot of Lavender lately."

"Lavender Brown?" Harry asked, and was answered with a nod.

Harry was unsure how to proceed with this conversation. Was his best friend telling him what he thought he was telling him?

"We've met up a few times for lunch. Sometimes after work. We owl each other occasionally." Ron looked incredibly uncomfortable and felt Harry's eyes burning into him.

"So…that article in the Prophet?"

"That's how it started. She did genuinely want to meet up, to catch up and find out about the business. Things kind of went on from there."

"What do you mean 'things kind of went on from there'? What exactly are you trying to tell me here?" Harry spoke in a hushed tone so the girls wouldn't hear.

"We kind of…kissed." Ron reached over to the table, took his wine and downed the rest of the contents in one gulp. He waited till it magically refilled itself before quickly finishing that as well. Harry reached over for the glass and took it from him to stop the drunken stupor he knew would approach if he let his friend continue drinking.

"What the fuck do you mean, you kissed? When did this happen? Did you kiss her or did she kiss you? Do you have feelings for her then? Or was it a mistake?" The questions spilled out of Harry quickly. It was like there was a dripping tap that led from his brain to his mouth, bypassing his ability to think properly.

"Argh I don't know. Everything with Hermione has just been so…shit recently, and Lavender was there and we had fun, she listens, she doesn't talk down to me, she doesn't moan at me all the time…"  
He chanced a look at Harry who was staring at him in surprise.  
"It was about a month ago. She kissed me but I didn't exactly pull away either. I don't know if it's the guilt or what but I've not been able to kiss Hermione properly since..."

"…and Hermione? Does she know?" Harry's mouth was dry. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He knew Ron and Hermione's marriage had become a bit stale recently. Ginny had hinted that things between the pair hadn't been good in the last few months, but he wasn't expecting this outburst.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck in a mixture of agitation and shame. "I still love her. I think I'll always love her no matter what. But I'm just so tired of the arguing, of the nagging…"

"You can't mess her around mate. If this isn't what you want anymore, you _have_ to tell her. You can't be doing this behind her back! You can't have it both ways." He was surprised at how calm he was remaining.  
Ron stood and placed his hands on the mantle of the fireplace, his eyes drifting over various photos, ones of their wedding, ones of them holidaying all together, one of her and Ron holding a new-born James. Didn't he want that with her? A family? Was he going to throw away everything because of a single kiss he'd shared with Lavender? Was he pushing her away just as much as he felt she was pushing him away? Where had his fight gone?

"Is this why you've been avoiding spending time with her? The guilt? I can't remember the last time the pair of you went out together." Ron didn't answer Harry's question, but his silence was answer enough.

There was a knock at the door, and when Ron made no moves from his place by the fire, Harry rolled his eyes and stood to answer it. Before he left the room, he turned to face Ron, a serious tone in his quiet voice.

"Listen mate, I love the pair of you like you're my brother and sister, and whatever decision you chose, Ginny and I will be there for _both_ of you. But don't you _dare_ fuck her around. Make your mind up about what you want. Are you really willing to throw away everything you two have together because of one stupid kiss?"

Ron paled as Harry slipped out of the room and answered the door. On the doorstep stood a man he briefly recognised from Hermione's department, yet he couldn't place his name.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked the man.

"Oh, Hello Mr Potter. I er…I wasn't expecting you here. Is Hermione available?" The man tried to peer around Harry in an attempt to see into the house.

Eyeing the man suspiciously, Harry replied, "I'll just go and get her."  
He closed the door on the man, not caring that it probably appeared rude. He thought it unusual that Hermione had a colleague visiting her at such a late hour. He knocked quietly on the bedroom door that was down the hall from the front door, popping his head around the entrance and announced to Hermione that she had a visitor.

"And you just left them on the front step? Harry you have all the hospitality of a…" Hermione stopped speaking when she opened the door and was greeted with Atticus.

"Atticus. What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?" She held the door in one hand, her other hand on the doorframe and her body blocking the man from entering the house.

"I managed to look in your file when Corah was on her lunch break." He smiled at her, obviously secretly enjoying the look of discomfort on her face at his statement.

"You can't do that Atticus! Merlin, I could have you sacked for breaching confidentiality!"

"You won't though. As sacking me would drag your personal assistant into the mix. Corah left her files unattended, it didn't take me long to find out your information. So, unless you want your little friend sacked as well, I'd keep your pretty little mouth sealed. "

"Are you seriously threatening me on my own fucking doorstep Atticus?" Hermione's voice remained quiet, yet she hoped the tone was enough to deter the man.

"Can I come in? Or is Mister Malfoy here to shoo me away again?" He asked, taking a step closer to Hermione and invading her personal space. He traced his fingers down her hand on the doorframe and she pulled it out of his reach quickly.

"No. I'm busy. Goodnight Atticus." She made to slam the door on his face, hoping he wouldn't have time to remove his fingers in time. However, his foot appeared at the threshold, preventing her from shutting the door.

"Now, now Hermione. That's not very polite is it? You're obviously entertaining, what difference is one more going to make? Is he here then, your new friend? You and Malfoy seemed awfully close at the bar."

"Who is it 'Mione?" Ron's voice appeared in the hallway behind her and Atticus took a quick step backwards and placed his hands in his robe pockets.

"Just someone from work, he was just…letting me know about one of the cases we're working on." Hermione answered her husband without taking her eyes off the man on the doorstep. She could feel the colour draining from her face.

Atticus swallowed when Ron appeared behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Bit late isn't it, mate? Are the owls on strike or something?" Ron laughed at what he thought was a witty greeting, eyeing the stranger.

"You're right, I apologise Mr Weasley. I've been working late in the office this evening and I lost track of the time." Atticus bowed his head at the pair.

"Good evening Mr Weasley, and I'll see you in the office tomorrow Hermione." He smiled innocently at her before quickly turning on the spot and disapparating.

Hermione shut the door and turned slowly in the hall, shocked at the appearance of Atticus. After his behaviour in the bar and with the information that he had deliberately searched through files to find her address, only to then turn up at her house; she would be lying to herself if she didn't feel a little unnerved by the man.

His behaviour was downright creepy.

And what exactly did he know about her and Malfoy?

"Strange bloke." Ron commented making a conscious effort to kiss Hermione on the forehead before walking back into the living room. Harry and Ginny appeared from the bedroom and followed him into the front room.

"Yeah." Hermione said to herself, "very strange…"

* * *

 **"Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute."**

 **Edgar Allan Poe**


	14. Chapter 14

This chapter contains a bit of a trigger so I thought I best mention it now. Atticus gets a bit creepy in this so if you don't want to read about him, skip to the second part of the story.

So looking forward to writing their first proper sex scene where they can finally take their time with each other!

I hope this chapter sets the scene nicely.

Love always to the many people who are still following, favouriting, commenting and messaging me about this story, they all warm the cockles of my heart :)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 _" **The Owl's Rest, Hogsmede.**_

 _ **Saturday.**_

 _ **2.30pm.**_

 _ **D.M"**_

* * *

 _" **Hoping you'll be a bit more talkative during our meeting than you are in this letter.**_

 _ **I'll be there.**_

 _ **H.G-W"**_

* * *

 _" **I'm afraid not. I was hoping my mouth would be busy elsewhere.**_

 _ **Looking forward to it.**_

 _ **D.M"**_

* * *

"So, how are things coming along with the Bowtruckle case?"

"Things are progressing well, thank you. We met with the Muggle developers last week."

Hermione found a map of the woodlands her team had visited early last week and pushed it along the glossy wooden table towards her boss, Mister Hansell. He was an elderly wizard who had been the Head of the department longer than Hermione had been alive and she held a high amount of respect for him. He was very rarely in the Ministry these days, however he was more than happy leaving the department in Hermione's capable hands.

Mr Hansell looked down at the parchment before him as Hermione tapped it once with her wand. About 40 small red dots appeared on the map as Hermione continued to talk.

"The red marks indicate the confirmed dwellings of a host of Bowtruckles." She tapped the map again. "The blue marks indicate the positions of the houses the Muggle's hoped to build. As you can see, the housing development would have been disastrous to the Bowtruckle's habitat."

Mr Hansell nodded, stroking his long beard between his fingers. "I notice my dear that you speak in the past tense, does this mean…"

Hermione grinned across at the man and nodded her head.

"Yes Sir. A simple Lutulentus charm by some of my colleagues while the developers were kept talking. Turned the land into a muddy bog wherever they set foot. As there had been very little rain in the area recently, they were convinced the site clearly had a bad drainage issue and have decided to abandon their plans."

The old man laughed and pushed the map back towards Hermione.

"Brilliant. The Lutulentus charm, I haven't used that spell since I was a boy! Whose idea was that, may I ask?"

Hermione was just about to explain when Atticus leaned forwards in his chair and interrupted her. "It was mine Sir, it was a favourite spell of mine back in Hogwarts. I used to use it when…times called for it."

Mr Hansell chuckled, as Atticus looked a mixture of proud yet embarrassed.

"It was a very _Slytherin_ tactic, but in this case it worked in our favour." Hermione avoided looking at Atticus. She hadn't spoken to him since last night and even being in the same room as him now during this departmental meeting was irritating her. Thankfully a few other members of her team were sat between them so she didn't have to be too close to him.

"A Slytherin tactic indeed. You've become quite a fan of Slytherin's recently, haven't you Hermione?" Atticus turned to face her, a smug grin plastered on his face. Hermione gripped her hands together on top of the table and stared at the man opposite her.

"Meaning?"

Mr Hansell chuckled more.

"Who wouldn't be a fan of a member of Slytherin house when they manage to pull off a charm like that when the time calls for it. My boy, you have just managed to save an established host of Bowtruckles who have been there for decades! Fabulous work!"

Atticus nodded at the praise, yet didn't stop staring at Hermione throughout, grinning at the blush of indignation that appeared on her face when he had mentioned Slytherin.

He had done a little research of his own on Hermione's friend at the bar. He had obviously heard of the Malfoy name, it was synonymous with corruption, bribery and, of course, Death Eaters. What he didn't know though was that Hermione and Draco were "old friends" as he had put it at the bar. All the books about the famous Golden Trio had noted the clear hostility shared between them and Malfoy whilst at school. Potter had helped to clear his name at his trial, but he didn't see how this made him a friend to Hermione.  
Still, if merely mentioning the Slytherin to her elicited this reaction, he was sure he could use it to further his pursuit of her. He knew she was married, but he didn't care. Weasley meant nothing to him personally, and he desperately needed to have a piece of Hermione, so he wasn't going to let a simple issue of a husband stop him.

Everyone was suddenly standing to leave; the meeting had obviously finished whilst he was musing over his thoughts. He stood, shook Mr Hansell's hand and pulled his robes back on. Soon he and Hermione were the last two in the meeting room.

"What the fuck are you trying to achieve, Atticus?" Hermione gathered the papers together on the desk, arranging them into a neat pile as the door shut after the last person.

"I don't have the foggiest idea what you're talking about." He approached her slowly, perching on the desk next to her and smiling.

"Don't play games with me. That stunt at the bar, going through my files, turning up at my house, bringing Malfoy up in conversations. What's your problem?"

He sniffed out a laugh through his nose, "It's interesting isn't it, what you can find out about a person. I didn't know you were friends with a Death Eater."

Hermione swallowed, not really sure where Atticus was going with this. "I'm not friends with a Death Eater," she replied, shaking her head.

"Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater was he not?"

"Emphasis on the _was_ , but yes."

"And did Malfoy not describe himself as an 'old friend' of yours?"

Hermione thought back to their conversation at the bar. "I suppose he did yes. What has this got to do with anything?" She took the papers and held them close to her chest, looking entirely bored and frustrated by this conversation.

"I'm sure your _husband_ would be ecstatic to hear you've been hanging out in bars with a Death Eater, Hermione." He put emphasis on the word 'husband', as if hoping this would some how strike a nerve with her.

Taking a firm step closer to the man, Hermione spoke in a threatening whisper.

"Malfoy and I were not _hanging around_. He was in the bar with his friends when he noticed I was being hounded by a creepy arsehole who wouldn't leave me alone. He stepped in and removed the problem, even though I was more than capable of handling _you_ on my own. Now, I still don't know what you're trying to get at here Atticus, but I'm too old to play silly little games. If you dare speak to me like this again, or put me in this position, I swear to Godric it'll be the last thing you do in this department."

She jabbed him aggressively in the chest with her forefinger, before turning on her heel and heading to the door. She began to open it when suddenly a hand came from behind her and slammed it shut.  
Atticus kept his hand on the door, trapping her in the room; the other he placed on the wall to the right of Hermione's head.  
She was trapped between his two large arms. She refused to look at him, instead focussing on his arm to her right.  
He ran his nose slowly up her neck, feeling his hot breath assault her throat as he got to her ear. It made her skin crawl.

"There are many positions I would like to be putting you in, Hermione. And, believe me, I'd like to see you try to handle me without your wealthy little Death Eater friend, or your idiotic husband getting in the way. Now, I know you're just playing hard to get…"  
Hermione shuddered at the feel of his mouth on her earlobe, and spun around to face him. His lips twitched into a grotesque grin at the witch imprisoned in the space between his arms.

With no real space to reach for her wand, Hermione instead reacted in the only way her body was telling her to. She raised her leg quickly, forcing her knee into Atticus' crotch. The man dropped his arms in a split second, covering himself with his hands as he muttered "fucking bitch" in a pained groan. Hermione pushed him away from her, drew out her wand and aimed it at his chest.

"Now you listen to me Atticus. You are going to go back to your office. If you want the opportunity to work anywhere ever again I want a hand written letter of resignation to appear on Corah's desk by the end of the day. If she doesn't receive one, I can guarantee it will not only be the end of your working career, but the end of your days as a free man. I know a lot of people that could make life very difficult for you."

"You wouldn't fucking dare." He sneered up at her from his kneeled position.

"Wouldn't I? My best friend is head of the Auror department, and as you were so keen to point out today, I'm friends with an _ex_ Death Eater now too."

The sheer rage Hermione was feeling fuelled her natural magic that was coursing through her body. It channelled down into her wand, causing Atticus to moan in pain as her wand wordlessly seared a hole through his robes and shirt, leaving behind a small circular burn on his chest.

"I wouldn't bloody try me, Atticus." With a final glance down at the man who was having a mental battle over which injury to his body hurt more, one hand cradling his balls and the other pinned to his chest, Hermione finally opened the meeting room door and slammed it shut behind her.

* * *

It was times like this that Draco wished he still smoked. He'd picked up the Muggle habit during his travels, finding it helped him to relax ever so slightly. The minute he'd returned home though, Astoria had insisted he gave up instantly, claiming that the smell was intolerable and she wouldn't be seen out with him partaking in the uncouth habit.

"Your room is ready Mister Malfoy. I've put you in the small meeting room at the back, I hope you find this acceptable?"  
A squat witch appeared through a wide oak lined doorframe to the right of the bar. It was relatively quiet here at this time of day; only an old Warlock sat by an empty fireplace, talking animatedly to what must be an enchanted piece of parchment. Draco had been leaning against the bar awaiting the landlady's return and nodded as she finished talking.

"And is this the guest in question?"  
The witch looked around him and Draco turned to see Hermione walk into the nearly empty pub. She squinted as her eyes got used to the dim room, falling at last on Draco and blushing slightly.

"Yes, Mrs Granger-Weasley has agreed to speak to me about alternatives to using House Elves as servers at my upcoming wedding. I'd appreciate your privacy regarding this meeting, I'd like for it to be a surprise for my Fiancé. She is in full agreement that modern houses do not need House Elves and this will be a pleasant surprise for her on the day."

"Of course, Mr Malfoy, of course. My lips are sealed. Is there anything either of you two need? Would you like me to show you to the meting room?"

Draco looked at Hermione, and she swallowed under his gaze, but shook her head, tucking a curly tendril that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

"We're both fine for refreshments thank you, and I believe we can find the way to the meeting room, thank you though. This way Mrs Granger-Weasley."

He placed both hands behind his back and led the way, Hermione smiled at the witch and followed the Pureblood up the stairs that ran behind the back of the bar. They walked in silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the creak of the old rickety wooden stairs as they ascended the floors and walked along the landing. Hermione was certain he could hear her heartbeat; it felt like it was going to launch itself out of her throat.

Draco stopped abruptly and Hermione walked straight into him.

"Throwing yourself at me are we Granger?" He whispered through a smirk as he unlocked the door.  
He pushed the door open and signalled for Hermione to walk through ahead of him. The room was simple; oak lined aside from a large window on the back wall that overlooked a dingy back yard. There was a large wooden desk in the centre of the room, two simple chairs faced each other on opposite sides of the table and a small fireplace was knocked into the wall on the left. Hermione strolled over to the window and looked over the scene below her.

"Lovely view…" She commented dryly, turning to face Draco who was locking the door behind them via magic.

"You and I both know neither of us came here for the view. Although, the view I currently have is very pleasing to my eye."

He approached her slowly, hands in his trouser pockets. He stopped when he was centimetres from her; his eyes trailing from each eye to her lips and back again. She licked them subconsciously and inhaled a stuttery breath. She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous; she had been looking forward to this little meeting since she'd last seen him. Perhaps it was being this close to him after last time.

"I see you managed to find somewhere with a desk then." She stared into his eyes, never breaking the contact. He smiled and rubbed his thumb gently over her bottom lip, grinning internally as he heard her breath hitch at the contact.

"It has more than a desk, Granger."  
He finally stepped away from her and waved his wand at the oak lined wall to their right. A solid door appeared before her and he pushed it open slowly as Hermione walked, open-mouthed towards the mystery room. Inside were a large four-poster bed, a chest of drawers and another door which she assumed led to an ensuite bathroom.

"Malfoy, this is…amazing. How did you..?" His lips grazed her neck from behind and she let out a small moan, his arms trailing around her stomach.

"I used to come here all the time with Blaise. This place is off from the main street of Hogsmede so not many people bother with it. We used to crash here shortly after the war if we'd had too many drinks and couldn't Apparate home. As it's officially down as a meeting room, it hid the fact that the Malfoy heir was drinking away his problems. As far as any nosey individual was concerned, I was simply having a meeting with my friend in private, when really we were both hung-over to fuck, waiting to be sober enough to head into Hogsmede and buy a sober up potion."

She pulled away from him and headed back into the room with the desk. She removed her robes and hung them on the door, turning to see Draco leaning in the doorway between the two rooms.

He looked devilishly handsome.

For some reason he was wearing a thin tie with his white shirt today, his trousers deliciously tight as always. She approached him again, their eyes never leaving one another's. Her small hand reached out and adjusted the tight knot under his collar.

"I can see you've dressed appropriately for this meeting Mister Malfoy."

"A Malfoy is never knowingly underdressed Madam. I hope to Merlin you have also followed the dress code which I requested of you during our last meeting?"

Without saying a word, Hermione walked backwards till her legs hit the desk behind her. She used her arms to push herself up so she could sit upon it, and crossed her legs. Her tight grey pencil skirt rose slightly up her thighs, and Hermione pushed it up higher still, revealing the black lacy tops of her stockings.

Malfoy's eyes drank in the sight and swallowed it down as if he hadn't quenched his thirst in weeks.

He approached her; tantalisingly slowly till he was within touching distance and she uncrossed her legs. Reaching out for his tie, he growled as she puled him in between her thighs and whispered in his ear.

"My wand is in my robes, so if I were you I'd put up a silencing charm. I've made a mental list of the things I want to do to you, and nowhere on that list does it involve either of us being quiet."

* * *

" **Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you've been dying to read." Michael Faudet**


	15. Chapter 15

I hope you enjoy!

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Hermione didn't think she'd ever had all five of her senses stimulated at the same time.

Smell: The room smelt slightly of furniture polish, that sweet yet clean smell was the undertone of the room, possibly strong to her at the moment as she was laid out flat against the desk. However, the main fragrance that drifted through her nostrils was that of sandalwood and jasmine. She was unsure if it was his shampoo, his aftershave, or simply his natural scent. Warm. Woody. Rich. Sensual yet calming. It was comforting and exciting in equal measure.

Taste: His kisses were a contrasting flavour on her tongue. The burning sting and icy breeze of peppermint. Cool but heated. Her lips were softened by lip balm, the taste of fresh apples that made her lips soft as silk, all covered by a delicate painting of soft red lipstick. Not dark enough to be considered war paint, but sultry enough that he considered her kisses to be casual cruelty.

Sound: The sound of her deep breathing, gasping moans, delightful sighs and pleading whimpers punctuated the room. These intermingled with his satisfied chuckling, the wet suction of his lips as they tasted the witch beneath him and the growls that vibrated through his throat in response to her vocalisations and ministrations.

Sight: Blonde tresses, chiselled jawline and deft fingers. Heaving chest rising and falling and rising again to meet its partner, gulping in air to keep from passing out from pleasure, exhilaration and anticipation. Buttoned shirt, buttoned blouse, enclosing a plethora of hidden desires.

Touch: The touch of him reverberated from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. His kisses burned everywhere they had touched her, like a pleasurable stinging hex, warming her skin and leaving her gasping for more. Her lips were swollen from passionate kisses and playful biting.

Hermione closed her eyes to try and focus on her breathing, attempting to steady the inhale and exhale of air into her chest so she wasn't constantly gasping in between breaths. He had pushed her flat against the desk and had climbed up after her, positioning himself carefully over her writhing body. She'd pulled him close to her using his tie again, wrapping it around her hand to prevent him from leaving her lips. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms either side of her head while he began to undress her.

If it was possible to drown in air, then Hermione was currently experiencing that phenomenon. The exquisite anticipation of his next move or which sensation he'd subject her to next was enough to suffocate her.

Delicately slowly, he unhooked each button on her shirt, pulling the fabric away every time and leaving a small kiss on the newly revealed skin. He seemed opposed to removing the garment completely, only opening it part way. He was taking his time, much to her surprise. After their last proper time together, she expected him to be rough and insatiable, or perhaps that's just what she wanted him to be like. However, he seemed to be taking pleasure in driving her wild, relishing every moment his lips, tongue and teeth grazed her skin.

When his lips got to the waistband of her skirt he paused, his eyes burning into her face, which was tilted away from him in an act of contorted pleasure. He was sure she was going to draw blood from her poor bottom lip.

When she came slightly back down to earth and met his gaze, he smirked and threw himself back up her body, slamming his lips against her own to rescue it from her teeth. He growled into her mouth when her tongue sought out his own.

She could no longer keep her hands still; she needed to touch him, to feel his bare skin on top of her. She reached between them, pulling his shirt from his trousers, her hands trailing under the fabric, loosening it further till it was free and she could tug it up his back. He broke away from the kiss temporarily to assist in her greedy need to undress him.

She moved her fingers up the smooth contours of his back, trailing them up his spine, over his shoulders and down his arms, which were supporting his weight above her.

When she got to the elbow of his left arm, he removed it from her grasp, grabbed her chin and forced her willingly into another deep kiss.

The move did not go unnoticed by Hermione, and she twisted her head away from him to break the kiss again. She leaned up slightly and trailed her eyes over the man above her. His skin was taught over his toned chest, the paleness only broken by a slightly faded, yet prominently obvious black image on his left forearm.

In his lust filled state, Draco had forgotten about his Dark Mark.

He had promised himself he would do all he could not to reveal his shameful inking to her, knowing it would kill the mood instantly. He eyed her nervously, swallowing hard as he watched her thumb trace over the slightly raised tattoo.

He sat up so he was straddling her hips and pulled his arm from her grip, using his hand to rake through his hair, eying her uncomfortably.

How could he have been so stupid and forget about it?

Hermione knew she should feel conflicted by his Dark Mark. It was His mark, the person who had been responsible for so many deaths and so much pain. Yet Draco had been forced to get it, even Harry had admitted that much. In essence she supposed it was just like any other scar received in battle. It had a twisted history and story behind it, but honestly in this moment, she didn't much care. Looking at Draco's face though, she knew he did.

The shame on his face was palpable and he began to speak, "Granger…Listen, I…"

Hermione raised her arm in between them, so one of her own war scars could be seen. Draco looked down at the raised pink letters that had been carved into her forearm.

 _Mudblood._

The memories of his Aunt Bellatrix torturing Hermione and carving that word into her came flooding back, making his blood run cold. Taking her arm, he pressed the scarred flesh to his lips and delicately kissed each letter, wishing he could erase them from her skin, but to selfishly remove his memories of that night as well.

If Hermione wasn't so turned on by their previous engagement, she thought she would have cried at his actions. Yet, she didn't agree to come here to just be wooed and romanced. Hells, he'd done that weeks ago; she was a witch with needs. He'd set the scene, introduced the main characters and she was desperate for the action to start.

Biting her lip, she raised her hips up to meet him, grinding herself against his hardness. He snapped out of his memories quickly and stared down at her, grinning. Throwing her arm down beside her again, he leaned down till he was nose to nose with her.

"Is there something you want, Granger?"

Hermione chanced a glance between their two bodies and noticed the way his trousers hung low on his hips, his muscles and that teasing line of hair disappeared beneath the cloth, the defined ridges of his hipbones just visible.

She swallowed, lost for words entirely, and instead answered him in the only way she could at that moment. She caught his bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down gently, whilst raising her hips to grind against him once more.

"Let's get rid of this first, shall we?" He whispered against her ear before pushing himself off her and standing at the foot of the desk. He tucked his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and pulled it slowly down her body, Hermione lifting her hips to aid his unwrapping of her.

It was Draco's turn to be left speechless as he eyed the witch on the table in front of him. Hermione lay there, her chest rising and falling as she watched him, awaiting his next move.

Her white shirt lay gaping over her chest, allowing him a tantalising peek of her black lace bra, the pink of her nipples just slightly visible through the material. Her thin toned stomach led to a matching pair of knickers and his heart raced at the sight. Her legs were, as promised, partly covered in her stockings, the lacy top circling her upper thighs to hold them up.

Standing closer to the desk, he took hold of her hips and dragged her down the desk towards him. Wrapping his fingers into the top of her knickers, he pulled them down her thighs, and threw them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. She let out a gasp of shock and excitement at the sudden show of force, but it quickly turned into a groan of desire as Draco's tongue traced the tops of one of her stockings, tickling her thigh with the sudden sensation. One hand held her hip; the other went around the outside of her other thigh and pulled her legs open gently. His hand travelled higher; he could feel the heat from her as his digit got lower between her legs and she held her breath when she felt his thumb dip into her wetness.

"Fuck, you're so wet…" he spoke into her thigh, grinning as he felt her release a shaking breath at his touch.  
His grin turned into a playful nip and she gave a quiet squeal in response.  
Agonisingly slowly, he kissed up the rest of her inner thigh, before finally running the flat of his tongue up her centre, moaning at the sweet taste of her. Her thighs tensed around his ears, but he could just about pick up her breathy moans as she responded to his tongue. Her back arched, hips rolling in anticipation. One hand stayed on her thigh while he placed his other flat on her hip to hold her position as her body writhed against his lapping tongue.  
The taste was more than he could have imagined and it was definitely worth the wait.  
He dipped the tip of his tongue into her tight hole, eyes glancing up her body to check the reception of his latest move. Her eyes were pinched tight, mouth open in a lost moan and her fingers were holding onto the edges of the desk as if trying to prevent herself from falling from the pleasure.

He continued with his actions, his tongue switching from licking up and down her wet slit to pushing into her. He finally decided to stop teasing her and swirled his tongue around her small nub of nerves. She stilled underneath him, her breath caught in her throat until he took her clit into his mouth and sucked on it gently. Simultaneously he thrust two fingers inside of her, curling them up and stroking that area at the front of her walls. She let out a cry of pure pleasure, her hands reached down and gripped onto his hair. Draco moaned as her fingers scraped against his scalp and the vibrations against her clit pushed her over the precipice. He catapulted her into an earth shattering orgasm the likes she hadn't had in years; her body was quivering and fluttering around his fingers and tongue as he continues to lick her through her orgasm.

When her body finally started to calm, he began kissing his way up her body, noticing the way she still twitched occasionally against him. When he got to her chest, he climbed on top of her again and straddled her hips, pulling the fabric of her shirt open completely at last. She looked at him through lust filled eyes as he took in the new sight of her. His thumbs grazed over the stiffness of her nipples beneath the lace and she groaned again. The sensations were all too much, and she needed him to be inside her, finally.

She gathered all her strength and sat herself up and pushed him away and off her. If Draco hadn't have caught the heated look in her eyes, he would have been concerned he'd done something wrong.  
Instead, Hermione scooted herself to the edge of the desk and he rested his hands on her knees as he watched her eagerly rip his belt from its loops. He sucked in air through his teeth when her hands purposefully brushed over the prominent bulge in his trousers as she unbuttoned them and pushed them down his arse, allowing the magic of gravity to assist her in removing them properly.

She groaned at the sight of him in his tight black boxer shorts which were doing a poor job of hiding his current arousal. Her fingers traced a long silver scar that travelled across his chest and Hermione realised it must have been the result of the Sectumsempra curse Harry had used on him in their sixth year. She chanced a glance up at him and was momentarily lost in his icy blue orbs which peered at her through his hair, which had fallen from it's neat combed back style to rest over his forehead.  
She smirked at him as, without looking, she pulled down his boxers and took his dick in her hand, running it up and down his length. Draco growled down at her and opened her thighs wider. Thankfully the desk was the perfect height, and he bent slightly over the top of her, taking her lips to his and kissing her forcibly as she rubbed a thumb over his leaking tip.

He removed one of his hands to grab his cock from her and she suddenly felt him part her folds and neared her core. Hermione didn't think she could take the anticipation much longer, and tried to thrust herself against him.

Slowly, so very slowly he eased himself into her, breaking the kiss so he could watch her face as he entered her. He could feel every tight, wet inch of her as he pushed further into her, and Hermione mewled at the slow sensation, so very different to their last sexual encounter.

His eyes scanned her face, enraptured by her look of bliss as he buried himself into her as deep as he could. Her own were closed in ecstasy as she felt him touch her cervix. Merlin, she didn't think she could cope.

He pulled leisurely out of her till only the tip remained, then deliberately slowly edged into her again. He wanted to memorise this feeling of her, so tight around him. She was still swollen from her last orgasm and it heightened both of their sensations all the more.

She swiftly wrapped her legs around his hips, unable to handle his teasing pace any longer.

"Fuck me, please. Fuck me harder," she moaned, digging her heels into his arse and tilting her hips up to meet him, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside her. He groaned at the change in sensation and her sudden demand and began to fulfil the witch's wishes.

He slammed hard into her, placing his hands on her hips to hold her in place as he picked up the pace. Hermione started to groan and whimper, her brown eyes looking down to where the pair of them joined, panting as she watched him disappear inside her again and again. For once, her brain turned off as she instead lost herself in the sheer pleasure Draco was bringing her. She was briefly aware of him removing her shirt and unclasping her bra, his hands squeezing skilfully at her breasts; his tongue flicking over her nipples.

Running his hand between the valley of her breasts, he gently pushed her down onto the table so she was again laying flat against it. He leant over her as he continued to thrust, her back arching and pushing her tits deliciously against his own chest.

In between deep kissing, he whispered against her wet lips, "tell me when you're close."

"What?" she gasped against him, her fingers wrapped around his back and dug into his shoulders.

"Tell me when you're about to come okay?"

"Mmmnnnhhhhh" was her only reply as he slowed down slightly, only to grind deeper and further inside her.

"I want you to tell me when you're close. I want you to look me dead in the eye as you come. Don't you dare close your eyes Granger. I need to see you, I need to watch you as you lose control."

His words were nearly enough; her moans were now one long purr of pleasure.  
It was only when he stood up again and reached between their hot bodies and rubbed his thumb over her clit that she felt it coming quicker than she anticipated.

She forced her eyes open and saw his own staring straight back at her, chocolate brown meeting cool cobalt.

"EughhI'mclose" she gasped out in one breath, clawing at his back in pleasure, which only made Draco groan in delight.

He leant down again and gave her a quick yet hard kiss, whispering against her mouth, "you're fucking beautiful."

His words, his kiss, the feeling of his chest against her nipples, his fingers running over her clit, his cock relentlessly and deliciously hitting her in all the right places was everything she needed in that moment.

It was like her body had been hit with a Petrificus Totalus jinx; her limbs were paralysed at the sudden rush of pleasure that was building inside of her groin and spreading through every element of her body. She did as he asked and stared him dead in the eye, her mouth open in a scream of delight as her back arched off the desk as she fell. Her body lost complete control and she became a shuddering mess around him.

The pulsing around his cock was fabulously unbearable, and with two final thrusts, he let go of his own release, staring at Hermione's face as he came with a deep, trembling moan.

Hermione was captivated by his reaction to her orgasm; he looked completely enchanted and mesmerised by her, unblinking in case he missed even a second of her.

Sighing, he leant back down and rested his forehead against hers, his hands running up her sides, her neck and up to her head. Cupping her face, he placed his lips against hers and ran his tongue over her bottom lip. She let him in immediately, her contented exhale humming through her tongue as it licked against his own as their orgasms subsided.

"So…are the _other_ rumours true?" she asked, tilting her head away from him slightly as he moved his mouth over her jaw towards the soft spot behind her ear.

"What other rumours?" the vibrations from his voice tickled her skin, and she giggled, turning her head towards him.

"That you have the stamina of a Thunderbird and are ready to go again in a matter of minutes."

Draco chuckled against her, stood up and dragged her towards him again. Hermione let out a quiet scream of excitement as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Draco grabbed her arse in his hands and lifted her up.

"Insatiable witch," he kissed her hard, turning and heading towards the bedroom, "let's find out, shall we?"

* * *

 **"Some of my favourite seconds on earth are the seconds filled with my lips spilled upon your collarbone and my hair nestled into your fist." Christopher Poindexter.**


	16. Chapter 16

Fluff, revelations and surprises!

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

During her childhood, Hermione had often had many a rumour spread about her, usually about her booksmart-nature, her frizzy hair or her buckteeth, and often all three. Her Mother had always told her "rumours, my dear, are told by haters, spread by fools and believed by idiots. Rise above them."

If this was the case now, then Hermione was the biggest idiot of them all.

Draco did not only prove that the rumours about him were true, he surpassed them in every way imaginable.

After the mind-blowingly fabulous sex on the desk, he'd carried her to the bed and shagged her into a delicious delirium. Her neck, chest, breasts, stomach, hips, thighs and arse were smothered with his kisses, licks and nibbles. She'd been in positions that two hours earlier she would have thought impossible to put her body into. They'd needed it fast and hard to fulfil their lust and desire, but he'd also been slow and gentle when he knew she needed it, smothering her in caresses and kisses. Neither could remember a time when they felt so completely content.

The covers were tangled around their sweaty limbs like Devil's Snare. Hermione lay on her side, her head rested on his chest and her finger absentmindedly traced the long silver Sectumsempra scar on his chest. Draco lay beneath her, stroking her curly hair off her face and inhaling the sweet smell of her. It was times like this that he wished he still smoked. He'd taken up the Muggle habit after the war to help him relax, amongst one of the many coping mechanisms he'd adopted. However, Astoria had forced him to quit; point blank refusing to be seen out with him partaking in such a "dirty habit."

He closed his eyes at the sensation of her delicate fingers running the length of his old scar, the taught skin hadn't scarred as bad as it could have had it not been for Severus Snape. He knew he'd almost certainly have been dead if his Godfather hadn't suddenly turned up and muttered the counter curse.

"I've got your best friend to thank for that one." He muttered into the relatively silent room, save for the noises of the bar beneath them.

"He didn't mean it you know. He'd read the spell in a book and wasn't aware of the damage it would cause."

Draco chuckled, "I'm sure he'd mean it now knowing what I've just done to you."

Hermione slapped him playfully on the chest and raised her head towards him, "I was a more than willing participant."

Draco swallowed then smiled down at her, placing a quick kiss on her forehead.

"How is old Scar-Head these days?" He asked conversationally.

Hermione was a little taken aback at Draco's interest, but answered nevertheless.

"He's doing well. He still loves his job as the head of the Auror office, been married to Ginny for a while now and they have baby James, as you know."

"Yeah, I remember you saying. I can't believe he has a kid. Though I imagine with Potter and Weaslette as his parents, that kid will be snapped up into a Quidditch training academy before he can even walk."

Hermione laughed, "did you just pay Harry a compliment?"

"Meh, I wouldn't go shouting about it if I were you, people would think my brain had been affected by the war. Unfortunately though I can't deny that he was a reasonably adequate Quidditch player. Ginny is obviously good otherwise she wouldn't have gone professional."

"You're being unusually nice this afternoon."

"Me? I'm always nice. I'm especially nice after having a thoroughly good sex session. But if it puts your mind at ease I can always punch him in the face next time I see him?"

Hermione full out laughed at this, before resting against his chest again.

"You know lots about me anyway from my speech at Hogwarts. Tell me more about what you've been up to after the War."

Draco sighed deeply before replying.

"There's not much to tell really. After the court case I went travelling. I visited different Wizarding and Muggle towns across the world, hoping to avoid anyone who might know my name or recognise the hair. But of course the whispers and gossip caught up with me eventually."

"You don't seem the type to be affected by gossip, you always seemed blasé about it at school…"

The silence that followed Hermione's statement made her turn in his arms to face him; he seemed to be staring down at their covered legs, lost in thought. After what felt like hours, he finally spoke.

"When your family has a reputation like mine; rich, powerful, dark, no one gives you the chance to explain who you really are. No one _wants_ to spend the time to find out who you really are. They hear the name and automatically assume. All the talk, the gossip, the whispers, it's all behind your back. No one is interested in your story, no one wants to hear what it was really like. After a while you just kind of…deal with it. You know there's no point trying to clear your name in their eyes…."

"But Harry…at your trial…."

"Yeah, thanks to Potter my name was _formally_ cleared, didn't really change the minds of many other people though. No one really wanted to know the truth, and to be honest after a while I lost interest in trying to tell it. Do people really want to know the things I've seen? The things I was forced to do? What it was like having Him in my home? My fucking family home that I'd grown up in? No. They want to believe I was a willing participant, that I was _happy_ to see them torture innocent people, that I was _happy_ to watch people die. No, no one is interested in that story. So, I shut myself off, which in turn only gave them more fuel to add to their gossip fires."

Hermione rested her chin on the hand that lay on his chest, staring into his blue eyes, which still stared unblinking at the end of the bed. She didn't want to think of what those eyes had seen. She had to admit, even she had barely thought about what it had been like for him. She too, until the end of the War and the eventual trial that followed, was one of those guilty ones who had assumed he had been more than willing to go along with Voldemort's plans.

"So, I eventually returned to England were I was informed that it was time for me to stop 'pissing our hard earned fortune travelling around the world' and to take responsibility of my Father's businesses. Of course I had absolutely no intention of doing so, which is still the fucking Hippogriff in the room at family meals. McGonagall wrote to me in the end and asked if I'd be interested in taking the Potion's position at Hogwarts. I believe she was well aware of the on-going family business scenario at home thanks to the delightful articles written in the Prophet, and Hogwarts would be the escape from them that I needed. I accepted and started the following term, much to the disappointment of my Mother, Father and Astoria."

"I think it's brilliant that you're teaching." Hermione smiled at him, which broke Draco's gaze towards the end of the bed. He looked down at her and grinned.

"You would, bookworm. You love anything to do with learning."

Hermione exhaled a laugh from her nose and settled herself back down on his chest.

"That's true. But honestly, I think it's great. For years everyone has had a predisposition to believe you're a bad person. But with this role as Potion's Professor, you can prove yourself; you can prove all the doubters and pessimists wrong. The student's love you, you produce amazing results, if there are still some people that doubt your intentions then screw them. You're proving them wrong every day."

It was Draco's turn to snort this time.

"I was brought up to be an egotistical, prejudiced, bigoted, judgemental arsehole whose family was high up with the darkest Wizard of our time. I can kind of understand why some of the parents have taken a while to come around to me teaching their children. But it's exhausting dealing with my parents and Astoria. I feel like I'm constantly needing to prove myself, yet they won't be content till I give up what my Mother calls my " rebellious streak" and settle down into the family business and start producing a Malfoy heir."

He ran his spare hand down his face in agitation, sighing. His breath tickled down Hermione's face and she breathed in his peppermint air. She was sure he must have some kind of charm on him that made him smell delectable all the time.

"Anyway," His voice disappeared into her mass of curls, "maybe we should discuss our current infidelity for a bit of light relief." He kissed the top of her head as Hermione groaned.

"Can't we just pretend for a bit longer that we aren't cheating on our partners? Those kinds of thoughts can really put a dampener on what has otherwise been a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon."

"Where does he think you are on this thoroughly enjoyable afternoon?"

Hermione sat up and joined Draco sitting up at the pillows. She pulled the covers over her chest, suddenly feeling rather exposed.

"I told him I had to collect some things from work. He won't notice I'm gone though. He doesn't notice much I do these days…"

As she played with the wedding band on her finger, Draco noticed the quiet sadness in her voice; it hovered like a Golden Snitch in the air, waiting for the Seeker to spot it before chasing after it. He hung back, waiting for Seeker Granger to dive in. He didn't have to wait long.

"We've been going through a rough patch for the last few months. He never wants to do anything together. We just…aren't working."

"Are you happy?"

Hermione had to think about this for a long while. Was she happy?

"I don't know."

"Do you still love him?

"I…I don't know that either."

"Well, I think that's your answer."

Hermione tilted her head to consider him.

"Are _you_ happy?"

"I'm happy at Hogwarts."

"You know that's not what I meant."

He turned his head to look back at her.

"I don't know."

"Do you love her?"

"I don't know that either."

"Well, I think that's _your_ answer."

Draco sat forward, drawing his knees closer to his chest. He hugged them lazily, drawing his attention back to the end of the bed.

"Who'd have thought it, the brightest witch and wizard in our year and neither of us know the answer to a simple question."

"I wouldn't call the potentially impending end of our relationships 'simple'."

He exhaled through his nose once again as Hermione turned, dangling her legs off the side of the bed as she readied herself to leave the confines of their den. She continued to hold the covers to her front, but left the back open. Her spine led to the delicate curve of her arse, her hourglass figure was tantalising.

"I know what _is_ simple though. The fact that I've always been right about one thing, that Weasley is an idiot."

"Malfoy…" she began in an almost frustrated sigh, but was cut off when she felt his nose and lips running up her side, nuzzling over her shoulders till he reached her neck.

"He'd have to be an idiot to lose interest in you. You're intelligent, strong willed; you fight for what you believe in. You're beautiful and can write a dirty letter that brings a grown man to do very inappropriate things to himself."

She laughed and turned to face him, pushing him playfully back onto the bed. She straddled his hips and he sat up, wrapping his arms around her so she was sat astride his lap, the covers lay abandoned in a pool around their waists. Her fingers ran through the back of his hair as they looked into each other's eyes; ice meeting chocolate once again.

He leant forward and kissed her gently, feeling her breasts press firmly against his own chest. He trailed his lips along her jawline and across to her ear, where he whispered gently into it.

"You make me happy."

Hermione felt like she'd taken a Bludger to the chest. His words caught her completely off guard and she felt her heart twinge in a way it hadn't for a very long time. It tangled in her stomach, spreading out to her fingers and made her brain fuzzy.

"Draco…" she was surprised her voice made a sound. It felt like every fibre of her being had been swallowed by his words.

"Well, I'd never thought I'd hear my first name come out of your mouth." He snickered against her throat, avoiding her eyes, almost embarrassed by his original admission.

"I never thought I'd hear those words coming out of _your_ mouth! Maybe that I irritate you, that I infuriate you at every turn. Never that I make you happy." She pulled away from him, forcing his eyes to finally meet hers once again.

"I meant it. You make me happy. You're my escape from…everything,"

Hermione didn't know how to answer him. She was completely and utterly lost for words. So she did what now felt completely natural. She leant forward and kissed him. It was gentle and comforting and her world fell away. His words had changed the intimacy of the kiss and she lost herself so completely in the sensation. He moved his hands to cradle her head; his hands rested beneath her ear, his thumbs delicately caressed her cheeks as their breath intermingled.

She drew her fingers slowly down the dip of his spine and pulled him as close to her as possible, until there was no space left between them at all.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a fairly new café that resided on the edge of Muggle and Wizarding London, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott carried their avant-garde coffees to their table. They weren't sure why Muggles had made the art of coffee making so difficult and flamboyant, like each cup was a spectacle of male pride, but they tasted damn fine so they weren't in the mood for complaining. Their table was a few empty stalls away from three girls that looked similar to them in age. Theo thought he recognised them from Hogwarts, but couldn't place a name to their faces. It was only when the curly haired, dark blonde girl started to speak to the dark haired twins, that Blaise nearly spat out his drink and Theo dropped his spoon in surprise.

"You'll never guess who I might have accidentally on purpose slept with yesterday."

She paused, obviously wanting to create a dramatic effect for her friends.

"Ron Weasley."

* * *

 **"'I don't believe in magic,'**  
 **The young boy said.**  
 **The old man smiled.**  
 **'You will, when you see her.'"**

 **\- Atticus**


	17. Chapter 17

Just to let everyone know, I'm off on holiday on Friday! Florida here I come! I cannot wait to get exploring Harry Potter World at Universal, that place is like my second home haha. Anyway, just letting you know as I won't be able to update for a bit or answer any of your pm's. I hope this chapter will keep you going for a little bit anyway.

Thanks again to RJ and our lovely H for some inspiration for this chapter, and to all of you for your ongoing feedback :)

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Day three of Draco's half term break found him walking through the busy main street of Diagon Alley. The shopping district was relatively busy; families and couples mulled around looking at shop displays and stopped here and there to chat. The street had slowly been rebuilt since the War; the shops had all reopened and a few new additions had sprung up.

The tinkling bell rang out as Draco opened the door to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Mr Fortescue's nephew, Elnan, had revived the place after his Uncle's murder by Death Eaters and the parlour was now once again as popular as it was when Draco was small.

The warm spring air from outside met the sickly sweet smell of caramel as Draco made to go inside the shop; retreating slightly to hold the door open for two teenage witches who were leaving.

"Thank you, Professor." One of the girls giggled, smiling and blushing at Draco in his expensive fitted robes. He nodded in reply, before heading over to a table where his two best friends sat.

"Here he comes, Hogwarts' answer to Mr March. Tell me Draco, which page of Play Wizard magazine are you in this week?" Blaise asked, watching the scene between Draco and his students unfold before him.

"You should know Blaise, you have a weekly subscription, don't you?" Draco raised an eyebrow at his friend as he took off his traveling cloak and hung it on the back of his chair before sitting down.

"What can I say, I appreciate a good looking wizard as well as a good looking witch. It's a gift!"

"Are you sure it's a gift, or is it just greediness on your behalf?" Theo spoke this time, his eyes not leaving the ice cream menu.  
It was common knowledge that Blaise enjoyed the company of witches and wizards and it was something that his friends had always been aware of since their Hogwarts days. It didn't bother Draco in the slightest, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had walked in on Blaise in a tangle of male and female bodies after a night out at some upmarket wizarding clubs.

"Do you really need to read that? We lived in here as kids, we know exactly what you're going to order." And as if to prove himself right, Draco raised a finger towards the counter where Elnan Fortescue was levitating clean sundae glasses into a cupboard. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted immediately by the shopkeeper, "two scoops of the salted caramel blondie with caramel sauce in a tub for Mr Zabini, two scoops of mint choc chip with peppermint drizzle in a cone for yourself and one apple pie sundae with a scoop of strawberry and peanut butter ice cream on the side, two extra flakes, strawberry sauce, chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles and a waffle cone broken up and scattered on top for Mr Nott?"

Blaise and Draco looked across at Theo, who looked proud at his order, and Draco nodded a "please," at Elnan.

The multi-coloured scoops of ice cream and sauces began to construct themselves behind the counter, twisting and layering themselves in an artistic form that looked like a choreographed dance. With a flick of his wand, Elnan sent the three deserts over to Draco's table and each automatically found their way in front of the correct wizard. Blaise took his tub, Draco took his cone and helped himself to a small plastic spoon from the jar on their table. Theo rubbed his hands together excitedly as his obscenely large sundae arrived in front of him. He dug in straight away, trying to get a little bit of everything onto his spoon so he could sample all the flavours. Draco and Blaise eyed him incredulously.

"Were you brought up in a Pure Blood family Theo or dragged up?" Blaise asked, watching as Theo continued to shovel ice cream into his mouth.

Draco sniggered, spooning some of his own minty ice cream onto his spoon and looked up as the bell above the door tinkled and a young family entered. Draco couldn't see the face of the wizard as it was obscured by a child with messy black hair, squealing with excitement in his arms.

Yet, he certainly recognised the voice of the witch who was with him.

"Ron, he's too young to be having ice cream! He's not even one yet!"

"Calm down Hermione, it's not going to kill him. He's my Nephew as well and if I want to buy him some ice cream then I will."

Some of Draco's ice cream slipped off his spoon and landed in a cold dollop on his lap.

"Fuck." He muttered, the shock of the coldness forcing him to stand quickly. He reached into his robes for his wand and cleared the mess away as Blaise laughed.

"Weasley seems to be having that affect on people at the moment."

"What affect?" Draco replied, sitting himself back down quickly, attempting to obscure himself behind the plastic menu on their table.

"Making people drop things. Rumour has it a certain witch has been dropping her knickers for old Weaselbee over there." Blaise continued, using his spoon to discretely point at Ron, who was ordering at the counter.

"What?" Draco nearly dropped his spoon of ice cream again, his mouth hung open in shock.

Theo leant over and whispered to Draco, "Weasley is having an affair."

Draco's eyes went from Theo, to Blaise, to Weasley and Hermione and back again.

"What? How do you know? Who with? And why in Salazar's name am I only finding out now!?"

"Theo and I were out for coffee the other day and overheard…"

"Lavender Brown" Theo interrupted through a garbled mouthful of ice cream.

"Overheard _Lavender Brown_ saying she'd shagged him the night before. Looks like old Granger isn't up to scratch in the bedroom department!" Blaise continued, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"I sincerely doubt that." Draco felt the eyes of his two friends burn into him.

"What? You can't say Granger's not attractive these days. Weasley has always been stupid. He probably doesn't know when he's got a good thing right in front of him. I know who I'd pick given the choice between her and Brown."

"Well, luckily for everyone you don't have to choose. How long is it till your wedding now?" Theo had quickly finished his sundae and pushed the empty glass away from him.

"Dunno mate, a few months?"

"What do you mean you 'dunno'? You don't know how long it is till you get married?"

"August sometime. End of August?" Draco huffed in annoyance. "Astoria has been organising it all. All you two have to do is make sure I'm there on the correct day at the correct time at the correct place. So technically, it should be you two who know when it is."

Theo and Blaise looked uncertainly at each other.

"So erm, how is everything between you and Astoria then?" Blaise asked as he watched Draco slump back in his chair.

"Brilliant as ever."

"You see the thing is Draco, your words speak of happiness and excitement. Yet your face and general body language indicate something entirely different. We don't have to have been your friends for the entirety of our lives to notice something seems to be…amiss." Blaise moved his hand up and down in front of Draco, drawing attention to the wizard's posture.

"It's nothing. Just the usual cold feet I presume." He sighed again and Blaise leant forwards to cover the space between them, keeping his voice low.

"You're meant to get cold feet a few nights before the wedding Draco, _not_ a few months off. What the fuck is going on?"

"Nothing mate, it's nothing. Honestly. Eat your ice cream before Theo does."

Draco sat forwards at last and pushed Blaise's ice cream tub towards the man in annoyance. Blaise and Theo glanced quickly at each other before changing the subject.

Draco scraped some ice cream onto his little spoon and ate it in quiet thought.  
He wasn't sure how he felt hearing the news about Weasley's affair. On one hand, he knew it would be incredibly hypocritical of him to feel angry for Hermione. After all, they were also both currently having a clandestine affair.

Yet he couldn't help feel a sense of protection over her, and with that protection came a sense of fury. How dare Weasley cheat on her! Did he not realise how lucky he was having a witch like Hermione as his wife?

He wondered if this was the reason Hermione had felt like Ron was being distant from her.

Hells, did she even know about her husband's infidelity?

Would he have to tell her now that he knew?

He knew Hermione would be more hostile towards him than a Grindylow if she ever found out he knew about all of this and hadn't told her.

However, he also knew she wasn't happy with Weasley, could this be the excuse she needed to leave him?

For purely selfish Slytherin reasons, if Hermione wasn't with Weasley anymore, it was one less hurdle of guilt to overcome, and this filled him with a slight sense of hope.

What he was hopeful for he wasn't quite sure.

Was it for hope for her to be happy?

Or hope for them to be together?

Could he really leave Astoria without his family _or_ hers murdering him?

It had been a while since he'd felt so conflicted. As unhappy as she was with Weasley, he knew this news would hurt her. He glanced at her quickly, aware of Theo and Blaise talking but not really taking their conversation in.  
She now had hold of the child, who must undoubtedly be Potter's son. The kid had exactly the same head of hair as his Father, yet there was definitely a look of Ginny about him. Weasley had bought the child a small cone of ice cream and the young Potter was currently trying to shove the entire dessert into his tiny mouth. He smiled slightly as he watched Hermione stifle a grin, trying to force a look of annoyance on her features. The child had certainly inherited his Uncle's eating habits.

* * *

"Ron, at least get him a spoon, he can't eat that much ice cream." Hermione held James on her hip, wincing as the cold ice cream ran down the boy's chin and all down his top. The child reached out with sticky fingers as Ron moved the ice cream slightly out of his reach as they made their way to their seats.

Hermione sat James on the table, but kept a protective grip on him so he wouldn't fall off in his desperate attempt to get more of his new favourite treat.

"So…how's work going?" Ron asked as he carefully spooned some of the dessert into the young boy's mouth, laughing as James closed and opened his hands in excitement at finally being allowed the ice cream again.

"Fine now that Atticus has left." She replied, kissing James' fluffy head.

"Yeah, what's that all about?"

"He just left a letter of resignation with Corah. Claimed he had important family business to attend to and apologised for causing any inconvenience at his sudden departure."

"And has his sudden departure been inconvenient?" Ron asked, trying to prise the spoon from James.

"Nothing we can't handle really." Hermione was aware of someone watching her; she turned her head slightly to look behind Ron and caught the familiar blue orbs of Draco. He smirked seductively at her before dipping his index finger into his ice cream cone and putting it in his mouth; slowly swirling his tongue around the digit before sucking it further into his mouth. He smiled as Hermione blushed profusely and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Heard anymore about Lavender's business?" She asked innocently. She was really trying to give Ron the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone was cheating on their partners like she was.

"No, why should I have heard anything about it?" It was Ron's turn to blush this time as he looked anywhere but at Hermione.

"Well, considering she was so desperate to hear of your business knowledge, I thought she might have kept you in the loop."

"No. I've had nothing to do with her since the lunch meeting. I haven't seen her or heard from her. Listen, I've got to go." Ron gave James the last of the ice cream from the spoon and handed him the cone to chew on.

"So soon? I thought you said you had a few hours to spare?" Hermione stared at Ron as he got up to leave. Hermione had taken the day off work to look after James for Harry and Ginny, and Ron had said he'd take the afternoon off so they could do something together for a change. The 'afternoon off' had inevitably been reduced to a couple of hours.

"It's been a couple of hours 'Mione. We've looked at the animals in the Magical Menagerie and come for ice cream. It's half term and the shop will be heaving, I'm sorry." He stood up, kissed her and James on the tops of their heads and left the shop.

Hermione sat there, a mixture of hurt and annoyance flooding through her. She grabbed the sticky child off the table, and whispered to him, "your Uncle is a silly, silly man James Sirius Potter."

James tilted his head as if he could understand what she was saying to him, and gently placed his ice cream covered fingers over her mouth and rubbed them down her chin and neck. Hermione laughed at him, licked the ice cream off her lips and kissed his forehead as she made her way to the counter to pay.

She felt him behind her before she saw him, the goose bumps ran all over her body and were not caused by the coolness of the freezers.

"You have ice cream all over your throat you know." He kept his voice low as he moved to stand beside her. He leaned closer, giving the pretence of looking at all the ice cream flavours in the glass cabinet to her side. "I'd love to slowly lick it off you."

"Draco…" She began, but was stopped suddenly as James smacked a tacky hand onto Draco's shirt, leaving a drippy handprint on his chest.

He looked slowly down at the stain and raised a cool eyebrow at the small boy in Hermione's arms.

"You, sticky child, must be James. Your Father and I got on famously."

James squealed with excitement as he watched Draco get out his wand and waved it, vanishing the ice cream off of his chest, Hermione's throat and off the small boy. He stretched his small pudgy arms out towards Draco and gurgled at him.

"He wants you to hold him." Hermione smiled, trying to keep a hold of the wriggling boy.

"I don't do children."

"Draco, you're a teacher, of course you do children."

Before he could protest anymore, Hermione handed James over to Draco, freeing her arms and allowing her to pay Elnan when he finally arrived at the counter.

James stared inquisitively up at Draco as he was held at arms length.

"Yahyah?" James babbled at Draco, who looked over to Hermione for assistance.

"I don't understand baby talk young Potter. Granger, it's trying to communicate with me."

Hermione smiled as she took the boy off Draco; her fingers tingled as they brushed against Draco's strong hands.

"Yahyah currently refers to Harry's cat, to shoes, to books, to wands…" she turned away from the counter, leaning in close to Draco as she whispered, "and now apparently to the man who makes his Aunty think very naughty thoughts."

She smirked at the look on Draco's face before walking away from him, nodding a goodbye at Theo and Blaise as she passed and left the parlour; James waving a pudgy hand at Draco, shouting "Yahyah!" at the top of his lungs.

* * *

 **"Without meaning to, he's disarmed me, with kisses that soothe and alarm me, in arms that terrify and calm me." - Lang Leav**


	18. Chapter 18

I'm baaaack. Sorry for the long ass wait everyone, jet lag has been a killer!

I think things have been going a little too smoothly, let's throw a spanner in the works, shall we?

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your feedback, it means so much.

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

" _ **I need to see you.**_

 _ **D"**_

* * *

" _ **I'm still babysitting James. Can it wait?**_

 _ **H"**_

* * *

" _ **No. I really need to see you.**_

 _ **Please.**_

 _ **D"**_

* * *

" _ **Are you begging me Professor? Come to mine. It's just James and I here.**_

 _ **Osterley Road, Stoke Newington. Apparate behind the old pub as there's a nosey old Muggle lady who leaves her curtains open to watch the comings and goings of the street. Walk down the road, blue door.**_

 _ **H"**_

* * *

Draco wasn't sure how he was going to break the news. Would she think he'd been keeping secrets from her? There'd been that photo of Weasley and Brown in the Daily Prophet, but Hermione had insisted it was just a business meeting between the two. What if she thought he was just saying it to break up her marriage?

As he apparated beside the bins at the back of the pub as instructed, he fixed his robes and stepped out into the evening air. It was cool now that the sun had set and streetlights lined the quiet London road. He found her building easily and climbed the steps, knocking as he reached the door. He turned on the top step and noticed an elderly lady watching him from across the road. Her hair was twisted around some small tubes and she glowered at him. Draco thought it was rich of her to stare at him, considering she was the one with a crazy hairstyle. He bowed flamboyantly at her, causing her to scowl further before shutting her Venetian blinds. He was certain he could still see the reflective glare of her glasses between the slats.  
Nosey old bat.  
He turned as the door behind him opened and he found Hermione smiling at him from the doorway.

"That crazy Muggle lady is watching me…" he muttered, fixing his collar as he spoke.

"Yeah, she'll do that." Hermione smiled, stepping aside to let Draco in; waving at the old lady before shutting the door.

Draco stood awkwardly in the entryway of her house, looking at the mixture of muggle and wizarding knick-knacks that filled up her hallway.

Hermione placed her finger to her lips in a silencing gesture and whispered "James is finally asleep, let's go into the living room." She moved away from him and Draco tried his best to keep his eyes off her arse, which happened to be in a pair of tight Muggle jeans. He couldn't afford to be distracted at a time like this.

Hermione headed into the living room and when she noticed he wasn't behind her, she turned to see where he was, finding him lingering awkwardly in the doorway.

"Coming?" She asked, looking over her shoulder. She saw his infamous smirk light up his features, which seemed tense.

"Sadly not yet, I thought you'd know by now what I look like when I'm coming," he quipped back at her, finally following her into the cosy room. She leant her hip on the back of the sofa and crossed her arms as she watched him.

"You have the ability to turn anything sexual don't you?" She noticed how smug he looked at her question and bit her lip to hide her own grin.

"Hey, it's a gift. It's not my fault you ask personal questions about my peni..."

"Yahyah!" A small voice shouted from a room further down the corridor.

"Has someone placed a caterwauling charm on me?" Draco waved his hands down his body as if searching for something. "The kid seems to scream that whenever I'm near you."

Hermione giggled and made to head out of the room, placing her finger to his lips as she passed, "I won't be a minute, make yourself comfortable."

He kissed her finger and nodded, heading further into the room and noticing the numerous photos on the walls and mantle piece. Standing in front of the fireplace, he looked at an image of a bushy haired child who looked no older than 3 or 4, fast asleep on an open book and surrounded by piles of other tomes. If the hair didn't give the young Hermione away, the picture wasn't moving, indicating its muggle heritage. There were some of her and her Hogwarts friends in various different scenes, but the picture that really caught his eye was one of her and Weasley. She was dressed in a simple white gown and was being carried in the arms of Weasley, who was dressed in smart dress robes; it was clearly a wedding picture. He watched the image of Hermione burying her laughing face into his chest, while he bent his own to kiss the top of her head lovingly.  
They looked so happy.  
The familiar pang of guilt returned in his stomach as he watched them play around in the photo. He was so consumed with watching them that he didn't hear Hermione approach behind him.

"He's not here you know. He won't be back till after 10." She whispered in his ear, noticing the photo that held his undivided attention. She reached out and turned the framed photograph towards the wall. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her fingers toying with the top button of his cloak.

"My, my Mr Malfoy, is that a Niffler in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?" Hermione smiled as she felt the defined edges of something large in the pocket of his robes rub against her thigh as she made to take the garment off him.

"Now who makes everything sexual?" He smiled as he helped her remove his cloak, taking a tub out of the pocket and watching as she folded his cloak and lay it neatly on the back of an armchair.

"Ice cream, I think you'll find. I brought it round to placate the small Potter." He showed her the tub of cold dessert which he'd managed to keep frozen thanks to a stasis charm, and placed it on the small coffee table. He grabbed Hermione by her hands and pulled her into him, "but you know I'm always pleased to see you," he bent down to kiss her smoothly on the lips, her mouth opening slightly to allow his tongue to venture inside. After a brief minute, she broke the kiss and looked up into his heated eyes, "the ice cream was a very kind gesture, but he's finally asleep so won't need any. He's been awake for ages thanks to Ron giving him an ice cream sugar boost earlier. We best eat this ourselves, if he gets a whiff of it he'll be up and demanding some again. Now, what was so urgent that you needed to see me so soon?"

He sighed, leaning his forehead on hers, "erm, maybe we should...maybe we should sit down."

She gave him a quizzical look, but removed her hands from his and headed for the sofa, sitting in the middle and leaving room for Draco to sit in the corner.

She took her wand from the coffee table and waved it; a spoon levitated into the room and she caught it with ease.

"So, I was talking to Blaise and Theo before..." he began, but was soon distracted by Hermione, who had tucked into the ice cream and was licking it off the spoon suggestively. He gulped before continuing.

"Erm, so yeah, I was talking to them and they happened to mention..." some ice cream had dripped down the front of her chest and had landed atop of one of her breasts, the tops of which could just be seen thanks to the black vest top she wore. She used her finger to swipe up the chocolate cream, bringing the finger to her mouth and sucking it between her two rosy lips. She closed her eyes and sighed in delight at the taste. She knew what she was doing, and sure enough when she opened her eyes again she saw a flustered Draco staring open mouthed at her.

He fought with all he had inside of him to not lunge at the witch there and then, but he knew he had to tell her about the affair. He ran a hand through his hair, a definite sign he was stressed and looked down to his lap, trying to avert his eyes from the temptation of her.

"They were telling me that they'd overheard something..."

"Mmmhmm?" She hummed out from behind the spoon as she leaned closer to him and began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, watching as her small fingers made quick work of the buttons and skimmed under the fabric, pushing it aside to reveal his lean chest and taught abdomen. He watched her like she was a mirage and only came back to the moment when he felt his breath catch slightly; her cold tongue tracing lazily around his nipple.

She paused her attack on him, leaning in close to kiss along his jawline and whisper in his ear, "I'm sharing. It'd be terribly rude of me to eat this ice cream in front of you without sharing it. And as you've seen I tend to make a bit of a mess with ice cream, I couldn't risk dripping some on your expensive shirt now, could I?"

He felt his mouth go dry when she gently nipped his ear lobe; she was really testing his resolve and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. She reached over to retrieve some more ice cream and carefully fed it to him, her eyes never leaving his. The spoon left some of the melted treat on his lips, and she kissed him slowly, licking it off in the process. She moaned into the kiss and Draco felt the familiar tightness of his trousers hinting at his arousal. When she pulled away, she left behind the lingering aromatic and sensual taste of the chocolate, intermingled with the sweetness of her. She sat upright, taking another spoonful of ice cream for herself as she considered him.

He swallowed again, trying to regain his composure whilst simultaneously trying to ease the stiffness in his trousers.

"They'd overheard someone talking..."

"You seem a bit uncomfortable there Draco, maybe I can help you _out_ a bit."

He was caught off guard again, but this time by her using his given name; as a result he was too slow in fighting her off as she swiftly undid his belt and unzipped his trousers. He moaned as she grasped his hardness through his boxers and temporarily lost himself at the feeling. Her index finger traced the underside of his covered cock and he gripped the arm of the chair tightly, moving his other to rest on the back of the sofa so as not to grab her and move her closer.

"That's much better. You may continue." She grinned at the sight of him; his bare chest leading down to the tent in his black boxers. She took another mouthful of ice cream as she admired the effect she was clearly having on him.

He didn't really know how to finish the rest of his conversation. His mind felt like it was melting along with the ice cream. He was losing his cool composure despite his desperate attempts to cling onto it.

"You're very distracting, woman. Let me finish. So... so Blaise and Theo overheard someone they believed to be Lave...fuck!" He gasped in shock as Hermione, in an attempt to feed him ice cream again, seemed to accidentally-on-purpose miss his mouth and let the cold cream dribble in a large scoop down his naked torso. It slipped and slid down the ridges and contours of his stomach muscles and ended up resting at the waistband of his boxer shorts.

"...oops," she mocked surprise, her grin giving her away. She held onto his upper thighs, her thumbs travelling teasingly close to his cock, as she leant forwards and slowly began to lick and kiss down his chest. The feeling of her hot mouth and the cold ice cream felt exquisite, and he knew he was done for.

"Uurrgghh, sssstop," he moaned. He'd come here with the best intentions and had been outsmarted yet again by the curly haired witch and a tub of fucking ice cream. He sucked in air through his teeth as she travelled lower, her tongue licking up every trace of the sticky residue; her thumbs found his balls and were gently starting to rub them.

"Hermione, I..," he began again, needing to take back control of the situation. He threw back his head and accidentally let out a groan of pleasure as he felt the ice cream melt and spread over his stomach and down to his hips, Hermione's teasing mouth replacing the coldness and licking lower. He had all the willpower of Weaselbee at a free buffet. That thought ignited something in his head once more, and when he felt her hot breath ghost over his covered cock, he lost it. Forcing his head forwards and keeping his eyes pinched tight so as not to see her, he shouted,

"Weasley is having an affair with Lavender Brown!"

* * *

 **"From throwing clothes across the floor, to teeth and claws and slamming doors at you. If this is all we're living for, why are we doing it, doing it, doing it anymore?"**

 **James Bay - Let it go**


	19. Chapter 19

Time to get down to the nitty gritty. Don't worry, there are many, many more chapters to come, the rollercoaster has only just made its first dive.

I tried to get through some honest emotions in this chapter. Many of you messaged me saying Hermione had no right to feel angry, while some of you were so angry with Ron on her behalf. This chapter explores the beginning of the end for Hermione's relationship with Ron and the tip of the iceberg for the emotions she'll feel.

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN**

"What?" Her breath paused, the momentary silence in the room was deafening.

He prised his eyes open to see her looking quizzically at him, as if unsure of what she had just heard.

He gently took hold of her wrists, which were now resting on his thighs and leant forwards towards her.

"Blaise and Theo overheard her, Lavender, saying...saying she'd slept with him."

He didn't know why he was struggling to break the news to her now. Hopefully with Weasley out of the picture, it would be easier to see Hermione, he could visit her anytime he wanted. At least that's what the old Draco would have thought. But he wasn't the same person he was when he was a selfish teenager. Yes he still had the traits of a true Slytherin; he could be cunning, determined, ambitious and clever, all of which he was proud of, but hanging out with Gryffindor's Golden Girl had had an effect upon him. The old Draco would have relished in the fact that Weasley had been found out, yet sitting here and breaking this news to her was hard.

He felt guilty, he felt apologetic and sad.

Hermione pulled her arms from his and stood up, rubbing her hands down her body as if brushing off some invisible lint.

"How...how long have you known?" She said in an almost whisper, turning her back from him and looking into the flames in the fireplace.

"Today, at Fortescue's. They only just told me I swear." Draco moved to sit on the edge of his seat, unsure if he should approach her or not, but kept his eyes trained upon her.

"As soon as I found out, I knew I had to tell you. That's why I sent you the owl. I couldn't lie to you, I couldn't keep this a secret."

He was sure he could hear the cogs whirring round in her head. The silence from her was unnerving, she always had something to say and the loss of her voice unsettled him.

"Hermione..." he stood at last, catching his trousers, which nearly fell to the floor. He quickly tucked himself away, fastened the button and zip and made towards her around the coffee table.

"Hermione, listen," He placed his hands on her upper arms and tried to turn her to face him, but she shrugged him off.

"Well that's that, isn't it." She let out a dejected laugh and took a step away from him, turning finally to stare at him. Draco remained silent, watching her apprehensively.

"It's not as if everyone will be surprised, people have been waiting for this."

"Been waiting for what, Hermione?"

"You said it yourself, weeks ago, 'trouble in paradise', after that article in the Prophet. People have been waiting for my marriage to fail."

"...What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying Draco, is it's over! Me, Ronald, our marriage, it's over." She reached out and picked up the wedding photo that she had earlier turned to face the wall. He watched as her eyes glistened over and a lone tear fell slowly down her cheek and sparkled in the firelight.

"I tried so hard, I really tried so fucking hard to make it work. We share none of the same interests, we never do anything together, we never kiss, we never have sex, we always argue. We're two separate people living two separate lives. The only thing we share is this house." She motioned around the room with the photograph and her other hand, but Draco kept his eyes solely on her.

"Are you going to tell him that you know?"

"About him and Lavender? How can I when I've been doing _exactly_ the same thing with you?"

"But you were unhappy, he was ignoring you, ignoring your needs, he was never there for you Hermione." He stepped cautiously towards her again, but she moved away.

"He was still my husband, Draco. _Is_ still my husband. I've been lying to him clearly just as much as he's been lying to me. I have absolutely no right to be angry with him..." She replaced the framed photograph back on the mantelpiece and sighed.

"Are you going to tell him about us?" Draco's voice was quiet, and she eventually turned to face him. She was quiet for a moment, thinking through her answer. His face was as pale as always, the fire causing shadows to dance upon his left side. His eyes, that curious mixture of ice blue and steel grey shone as bright as ever.

"No. I've already ruined my own marriage; I'm not ruining yours before it's even had the chance to begin. Sometimes there's no comfort in knowing the truth."

"I think I've made it perfectly clear over the last few months that Astoria is not the woman I truly want to be with, Hermione."

She stepped close to him, placing one hand on his bare chest and the other on his cheek; her thumb gently rubbed his bottom lip. Draco held her hand against his face and kissed her thumb.

"You're sticky..." Hermione smiled sadly at him, but Draco made no sound or movement, instead he just continued to watch her.

He knew she was hurting. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she held herself. Gone was the brave lioness he knew, replaced instead by a broken and apprehensive cub.

"I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say, Draco. These things happen. I suppose I should thank you."

Draco looked at her with confusion and this time it was him that took a step back.

"Thank me? Merlin Granger, I've just told you your husband is cheating on you!"

"And let's not forget I've been cheating on him too! My marriage has been over for months Draco. I can thank you because now I know he also isn't trying to save our marriage. He's sought out companionship and...and other things, with her. At least if it ends now it's done with dignity. Neither affair will be splashed over the papers. No one else is brought into my mess and getting hurt."

Her voice got smaller the more she spoke, and it stabbed him in the heart. He retraced the step he'd taken from her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, kissing the curls on top of her head before resting his chin on her, tucking her in tight.

"Draco, I think I need you to go." He felt her tense against him, yet she held him tightly, her actions contradicting her words.

"I don't want to leave you, not like this." He really didn't want to leave her. She appeared unusually calm considering what had just happened and he wasn't sure what she'd do. He also just didn't physically want to leave her; it felt right being with her, he felt complete.

"Please. I need some time, I need to think things over."

She pulled away and wiped her eyes, attempting to straighten out her clothes. Draco ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Will you be okay?" He asked as he began to button up his shirt, not bothering to magic away the sticky residue on his chest and abdomen.

"I'll be fine, I've got ice cream." She gave him a sad smile and motioned towards the abandoned tub on the coffee table.

"Hermione, I'm serious. I can't leave you like this."

A sudden whimpering travelled into the room and Hermione ignored Draco, instead moving to go and find her nephew who had apparently awoken yet again.

"Hermione." Draco followed her quickly down the corridor and into a small room that was being used as a bedroom for James.

"Hermione, please," even though the young boy was now awake, he kept his voice quiet, the desperation in his tone evident.

He watched her bend down to retrieve James from his cot, snuggling the boy close to her chest. He suspected it was for her own comfort as much as it was for the boy's. James rubbed his tired eyes with a pudgy fist and opened a bleary eye, spotting Draco.

"Yah yah," he said sadly, his bottom lip trembling.

Draco reached out and the small boy held onto his finger, squeezing it tight, his lip stilling.

"Draco, you need to go. I need to settle him, and Harry and Ginny will be here soon, and...and Ron."

His finger was lost from the child's grasp as Hermione turned to look at him. Her eyes were streaming, her tears getting lost in the messy black bed head of James. She held him tighter, one arm supporting his bottom, the other snaked around and up his back, her hand holding his head tight to her chest as he whimpered.

"Draco, really, you need to leave, please!"

"When will I see you again?" he asked tentatively.

"I'll owl you."

" _Will_ I see you again?" He wasn't sure why, but he had a strange feeling that her marriage with Ron wasn't the only relationship she was ending tonight.

"Hermione."

She remained silent, rocking James in her arms.

" _Hermione_ , what about us?" he asked, and she answered him almost immediately.

"What _are_ we Draco? What exactly would you call " _us_ "?" She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down.

He stared at her incredulously, unsure how to answer.

"I care about..."

"We're fuck buddies Draco, that's all. My marriage was failing and you're being forced into one you don't want. We distract each other from the monotonous, boring lives we're living. We mess around, we make each other feel good, we have sex, we shag, we fuck. That's all we are! We're fuck buddies, a one night stand gone too far." She answered with such venom, he was surprised he wasn't struck down. He knew her anger would come out soon, but he would be lying to himself if her words didn't hurt him. He would have preferred it if she had shouted at him, but her voice stayed calm and collected.

Swallowing back his emotions, he quietly approached her and placed a gentle kiss on her temple, his hand resting on the small of her back. He leant his head against hers, surprised she didn't move away, and he spoke to her quietly.

"There's unwritten rules in that kind of relationship Hermione, the number one being that you can't have a _fuck buddy_ when feelings are involved. You stop being _fuck buddies_ the _second_ you feel more for them. When they get under your skin in an addictively painful way, when they're all you can think about. When you consider breaking off your own fucking engagement to...to..." he paused and finally turned away from her, deciding not to finish his sentence. He threaded both hands into his hair in agitation. Heading to leave, he stopped in the doorway but didn't turn to face her. He knew he couldn't look at her right now.

"You're my drug of choice, Hermione. Please don't make me go cold turkey." He left the room and headed for the living room. Picking up his cloak, he entered the hallway and opened the front door, hearing Hermione's sobs mixed in with James's as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

When she heard the door click closed, she broke down even more. She slid down the side of James's cot, clinging to the boy like he was her lifeline. She didn't know why she'd pushed Draco away. She presumed it was misplaced anger.

She knew she shouldn't feel angry, knew she was a hypocrite for feeling angry, but she couldn't help it. She was now also angry with herself for shouting at Draco. She'd shot the messenger, shouted at someone who had made her feel special, important, almost loved again. But she stood by what she'd told him. She wouldn't be responsible for the end of another marriage, no matter how much he denied his feelings for Astoria.

James had cried himself to sleep buried into her chest. She wasn't sure how long she had sat there with him, but her sobs had slowly died away and she found herself staring into space.  
A small snuffle from James broke her daydream and she tentatively stood and placed him in his cot, just as she heard the front door open, and the shuffling sound of her husband removing his cloak and hanging it on the hook in the hall.  
She straightened up and did her best to hurriedly wipe her eyes and cheeks, removing any trace of her upset.

"'Mione, I'm home, where are you?"

She left the small room and quietly shut the door behind her, putting a finger to her lips to silence him.

"I've only just got him back to sleep." She told him, walking past him and into the living room. She noticed the tub of ice cream still on the table, and the chair where Draco's cloak had been, now vacant.

Ron threw himself onto the sofa, completely oblivious to Hermione's emotional state, grabbed the ice cream and began to tuck in. Hermione leant on the kitchen doorframe, watching him as he put his feet on the table and eat the ice cream that Draco had brought her.

"Thought you would hab had enough ife cream thif afternoon." He spoke with his mouthful, and Hermione inwardly cringed at his manners.

"I think you'll find I didn't have any ice cream this afternoon. So I bought some to have tonight instead. Sometimes a girl just needs some ice cream."

Ron turned to follow her as Hermione moved to sit in the empty armchair. She was sure she could smell Draco's aftershave, rubbed off from his cloak onto the chair. Either that or it was her imagination, inhaling his cologne and giving her the strength she needed for the conversation that was to come.

"You alright?" He questioned her whilst eying her face.

"Not really, no," she inhaled, ready to begin the conversation that would end her marriage.

Before she had a chance to carry on, Ron reached into his trouser pocket and threw her a small red sweet.

"Try that, it'll cheer you up. We finalised the prototype today. It's a sweet and if you eat it before any meal, it makes it taste like your favourite food. That one is cherry pie flavoured, so you could eat the worst, over cooked cabbage in your life, yet you'd love it because it tasted like your favourite food!" Ron looked really pleased with his invention and continued to eat his ice cream.

She was aware he was still talking to her, but wasn't taking anything in.

She had to tell him.

"Ron, this isn't working." She blurted it out quickly, snapping herself out of her reverie.

"Course it's not working, you aren't eating anything! Look, you haven't even opened it." He made to stand up and assist her, but she put her hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

"Not the sweet Ron, Merlin. Us, this," she moved her hand between the pair of them. "We aren't working."

Ron paled and sat down on the edge of the sofa again.

"What do you mean we aren't working?"

"Don't act like you're surprised Ron, this has been a long time coming and you know it." She looked down at her feet, her eyes filling with tears again. She knew the end of her marriage would be painful, but this hurt more than she could have imagined. Despite how unhappy she had been with him recently, this hit her like a bludger to the stomach.

"...what's been coming?" He tilted his head, trying to catch her eye. "Hermione? What's been coming?" His voice rose in a mixture of anger and confusion.

Finally, she looked up, her brown eyes finding his blue ones, so very different from Draco's.

In a quiet, heartbroken voice, she whispered, "Ron, I want a divorce."

* * *

 **"Beware of the human-shaped drugs. The detox is a painful one."**

 **Erin Van Vuren**


	20. Chapter 20

This chapter felt painfully real to write, especially after just coming out of a ten-year relationship myself, so a lot of myself is in this chapter.

There are lots of emotions our pair will go through over the future chapters: anger, denial, hurt, grief, acceptance and many more in between. I hope you stick with me, as there are big fireworks to come, and let's not forget the wizarding wedding of the century is fast approaching!

As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY**

"Excuse me?" Ron's face went an unnatural pink colour as he squinted at her, as if looking at her in a different way would make him understand her request more.

Surely he had heard wrong.

"A divorce. I want a divorce."

There was that uncomfortable silence again, shifting around them like an autumn fog; it entered Ron's lungs and made him emit some strange choking noises as he came to terms with what she had said. He stood suddenly, making Hermione jump as he started to pace the living room; one hand raised and rested on his shoulder, squeezing it in an attempt to diffuse some of the tension his body was feeling.

"Well...where the fuck did this come from?"

She looked at him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Really Ron, you can't be surprised. We both knew this was coming. We have his exact conversation every few weeks..."

"Well it's news to me, Hermione. Merlin!" He turned away from her and instead faced the fire; the flames were dancing and popping over the logs. He placed his hands on the mantle piece, drooping his head in a mixture of frustration and despair.

"How can it be news to you Ron, even the bloody Daily Prophet has picked up on the problems in our marriage."

He kept his eyes on the fire, her words going round and around in his head.

When he didn't reply, she continued, "Ron, we're so distant from each other now. The whole part of a marriage is to share experiences, to love and cherish, to be there for each other. You're so completely oblivious to my needs, to my feelings. We don't do anything at all together anymore; you always find excuses to not turn up to things I suggest, or you're too busy or too tired. I think I see Harry more than I bloody see you."

Hermione heard him mutter something under his breath, but it was lost in the fire until she asked him to repeat himself.

"You and Harry, so what else is new?" He bellowed back.

She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief as she let out a bewildered laugh.

"You really are immature aren't you? You're just an adult adaptation of your schoolboy self; jealous, bitter, self-centred and childish! Harry has been there for me, Ron, been there for me when you haven't been. You're totally unaware as to how other people are feeling. Everyone around you has grown up and adapted to life after the War. You're still stuck in your selfish 16-year-old mind. You don't love me Ron, there is no romance, no lust, no longing between us anymore!"

"I do love you!" He spun around, staring at her with hurt eyes.

"Do you? Or do you love the idea of me, the younger me who wasn't wrapped up in the Ministry? The pair of us, we're focused on different things Ron! There's no romance anymore, to be honest I don't even think there was that much romance to begin with." She felt like she was repeating everything that she'd said to Ginny every week for the past year, everything she'd said to Harry, everything she'd admitted to Draco.

"You're still the same Hermione I fell in love with when we were kids." He bent down in front of her and grabbed hold of her hands, pleading her to look at him.

"No I'm not Ron! See, you haven't even noticed how much I've changed! You can't expect our relationship to be like it was when we were younger."

"I haven't changed."

"No, you haven't, that's my point! But _I_ have. Sometimes I think that we rushed into our marriage. I suppose it felt like the natural next step after the war. We should have spent more time learning about each other, discovering the natural progression of our relationship instead of forcing ourselves into a life of marriage." She finally looked at him as the tears escaped down her cheeks, leaving a dark trail of mascara down her pale face.

"I don't understand where this is all coming from." He sighed, letting go of her hands and standing again. He reached for his tie, loosened the knot and threw it exasperatedly onto the sofa.

"I miss feeling wanted, Ron. I miss feeling loved; I miss having someone _to_ love." As she was talking, Ron picked up the wedding picture from the mantlepiece and rubbed his thumb over the image of her.  
"I miss coming home and it just being you and me. We'd close off the floo, not answer the door, ignore the owls, and just enjoy each other. But you're never here anymore, are you? Even when you _are_ here, you're not, not really. You spend so much time at the shop and Merlin knows where!"

"What are you insinuating Hermione?"

"I'm not insinuating anything, I'm simply saying..."

"No, you know what? Fuck this." Ron finally snapped, throwing the photograph onto the table which caused the glass to smash in its frame. "You're right. Maybe I do love the old you, who you _used_ to be. You don't take the slightest bit of interest in my job..."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Is it? You're so wrapped up in Ministry shit, you think you're so much better than me cause you hobnob around with Ministry officials, and I'm just stupid Ron Weasley, who only works in a joke shop." He began to pace again, scratching the back of his head.

"Ron! I do not think I'm better than you!" His comment stung and she stood to address him. She was proud of Ron for supporting his brother; for giving up his dream of becoming an Auror like Harry and putting the needs of his family first.

He turned on her again, throwing his arms out in a shrug. "Well other people do! 'Oh look, there goes Hermione Granger-Weasley and her husband. You know she's Deputy Head of her Ministry department and he's only a shop keeper.' I hate that people worship you so much. There, I said it."

They started at each other, unblinking.

"I hate how successful you've become, everything you touch turns to fucking gold. Then there's me, your idiotic, childish, ex-Auror of a husband. A failure and a disappointment as always. People didn't care what I had to say at the War Crime hearings, it was you and Harry that they wanted, not me."

"So you hate me because I was called to give evidence at more hearings than you? Well excuse me for being the one tortured at Malfoy Manor!"

"And there's that! I hate that you're so fucking forgiving!" His voice was raised as he pointed at her.

"What on earth are you on about?" She looked quizzically at him, till his face turned up in a disgusted sneer, like he'd just smelt something deplorable.

"Draco fucking Malfoy!"

Hermione paled and stayed silent, not sure where he was heading with this.

"You've been invited to his bloody wedding!" He moaned in annoyance, kicking the leg of the low coffee table as he paced beside it. "Since when did you become best mates with Malfoys? I don't understand how you can forgive him after all he and his family have done to you!"

"You've been invited to his wedding as well! Besides, this has got nothing to do with..."

"I hate him. I hate this arguing. I hate the constant nagging and whining. I hate not being good enough for you, I'll never be good enough for you! You're right, I hate what our marriage has become. You're right, as always. I'm tired of holding on, I hate this, I hate us!"

His tone was so bitter that it stung her; so angry that it frightened her a little. He looked at her with pure hurt and disappointment in his eyes. She knew ending her marriage would be one of the hardest things she would have to do. She'd finally failed at something, but this wasn't a something; it was a someone. She'd failed him, failed at their marriage, failed at being a wife.

Failure; her biggest fear.

Hermione wasn't used to failing at anything, and even though this decision about her relationship was what she thought she wanted, the pain was excruciating.

Looking at the man across from her, she finally saw he was no longer her childhood sweetheart. Sure, he was still the tall and slim, red haired, freckled, blue-eyed boy she'd met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago, but he'd never looked at her like that before. This conversation had altered everything, broken it beyond repair. They were strangers, arguing about a marriage they were stuck in that they both knew was now dead and buried.

Suddenly, the floo came to life and Harry and Ginny appeared in the fireplace. They could feel the wall of silence and observed their two friends standing apart from each other, staring. Hermione was as pale as parchment, her mouth was open in shock, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Ron was red and flustered; he looked angry yet he also had tears running down his face.

"Is...everything alright?" Harry asked into the silence, his eyes darting between the pair. Ron quickly rubbed at his cheeks with his sleeve and walked briskly into his bedroom, "I'm staying at yours."

They heard the slamming of wardrobe doors; banging and crashing coming from the bathroom. Ginny approached Hermione, but she fell into the armchair, her head in her hands as she sobbed. With a worried yet knowing look from his wife, Harry went in search of Ron, but didn't have to go far as they suddenly crossed paths in the doorway; Ron with a black duffle bag in his hand, a shirt sleeve hanging out of it.

"What's going on mate, what do you mean you're staying at ours?"

"Ask her." Ron spat, keeping his eyes off Hermione as he grabbed a handful of floo powder off the mantelpiece.

"The wards are up, Ron. The floo is closed 'cause we're all out and..."

"Well you best come with me then and fucking open them!" Ron snarled, shoving his original handful of powder into Harry's hand and grabbing another for himself. Harry looked awkwardly between Ron, Ginny and the shaking, crying form of Hermione.

"You go, I'll stay here tonight with Hermione and James." Ginny answered Harry's silent plea on what to do as she rubbed circles onto Hermione's back. Nodding, he threw his floo powder into the flames and stepped into the fireplace, stating clearly, "Potter living room." In a rush of green flames he was gone, replaced quickly by Ron who left without saying another word.

"I'm going to go and get us a drink, then when you're ready to tell me what's gone on between you two, we can have a cry and a cuddle and slag him off, okay?" Ginny didn't wait for an answer; instead she kissed the top of Hermione's bushy head and disappeared into the kitchen.

When she returned a few minutes later, she found Hermione staring out of the window into the darkness. She seemed to have temporarily stopped crying, her blank face reflected in the inky blackness of the window. She headed to the table to put down the glasses of wine and noticed the smashed wedding photograph in the centre of it, her brother's tie folded neatly beside it. Glittering on top of the woven blue fabric sat Hermione's engagement ring and her delicate golden wedding band.

* * *

" **I don't want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else.  
Our love has gone cold; you're intertwining your soul with somebody else." **

**The 1975 – 'Somebody Else'**


End file.
